Death Do You Part
by imaginationstarie13
Summary: A year after the events in "Playing Death," Frank and Joe have moved on in their lives. But a new mission brings the past back to them, along with the truth about their father...
1. Chapter 1

Here it is!  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Frank

It's been over a year. More specifically, a year and almost three months. That was the last time Joe or I saw Dad.

A lot of things had changed. Aunt Trudy had decided to go with Dad, because God knows that he'll need all the help he can get with his own detective agency. Mom was livid (or, as Joe refers to it, "beyond pissed"). She didn't fight him though. I don't know what the full argument was, nor do I really care. Joe thinks it was mainly about me being gay. I never questioned that theory much.

The whole financial situation part was lost on both of us, though. It seemed that Dad somehow made sure he paid for the bills, as a way of apologizing. We had all tried to come up with other reasons, but settled for that one.

He never contacted us. We never tried to contact him. No Christmas gifts, no birthday cards, no nothing.

Ignoring all the issues with our dad (most of them unresolved), it had been an overall pretty good year. Why? Well…

"Let go, Phil."

"It's Saturday. Who the fuck gets up so early on Saturday?"

"I do. You know that, too. Now let me go!"

His grip around my waist grew tighter. "But then I'll be lonely and cold."

"It's the end of May, Phil. Not February."

"I was referring to my heart, thank you very much."

"Well then tell your heart to put on some clothes." I leaned down, grabbed his pair of sweatpants, and tossed it in his face. The sudden attack of clothing surprised him, enough for me to escape.

"Fuck you. Except I already did, so…"

"Shut the hell up up, Phil." I rolled my eyes, trying not to give into temptation of throwing his shirt at him. Instead, I grabbed my ring from the desk.

One nice thing that actually worked for me was that I got engaged. Yeah, engaged. I'm not going to relive that memory at the moment, however, because I was embarrassed beyond belief (in a good way, but still…).

Callie and Ivy are, too. Joe claimed it was a miracle that the two could even make it to the one year anniversary point, but they did.

Joe also managed to pass that point with his girlfriend, Vanessa. Who knew a girl asking him out was all it took to get my brother completely whipped? (Which Joe never directly denied. He loves the girl a lot. Enough to compromise his pride, which requires a _lot_ of love.) The only difference between their relationship and ours (besides the whole gay/straight thing) was that Joe is deathly afraid of Vanessa's father, and therefore hasn't popped the question.

This might be the reason he started swearing a lot more often than usual. Callie said it was a phase she went through, though Ivy says that Callie's going through it now because she started swearing. A _lot_. It scared all of us for about a month. Then, somehow, the word "fuck" just melted into our vocabulary, along with every other swear…

Still kinda weird…

"Yo, you two!" Joe shouted through my door. "Come on! Van says she's got a surprise for us!"

"It's seven," Phil complained, not moving from my bed.

"Joe, when the hell did you get up at seven in the morning?" I already knew the answer to that; never.

"Since Van texted me!"

"Oh, right…" For good measure, I added, "Whipped."

"Let's just go!"

"We're going, we're going…" I turned to Phil. "Come on. We have to get this over with."

"Okay, okay…"

----------------

"Van, it's seven thirty. In the fucking morning. We should be in bed, like any normal person during Memorial Day weekend," Callie said. We were all sitting around in Vanessa's living room, after the slow process of getting out of bed, getting breakfast… and everything else that had to be done. Callie and Ivy were sitting on the couch, Vanessa and Joe had taken an armchair, and Phil and I sat on the floor.

"Which means everyone but Frank," Phil added. I gave him a look, which he ignored completely.

"You might need the day to pack," the girl explained.

"Why? A…" Joe looked around, and continued when he made sure that Vanessa's parents weren't in sight. "A mission?"

Technically, Vanessa isn't supposed to know about ATAC. But she found out, anyways. (Completely Joe's fault.) She gives us a hand once in a while, but usually just stays back, tells Joe to come back safe, and forgives him for any dates that would be missed.

"Nope."

"They don't know that she knows, remember? Can't give a random girl a disc," Ivy added, before yawning. Callie pulled Ivy's head into her lap, before looking at Vanessa.

"Well?"

"I have a cousin who's a wedding planner. There's a wedding showcase thing going on over the weekend about an hour from here. Engaged couples go, spend a few days, and get walked through the whole wedding thing. So…"

"It sounds like you need to sign up for it. Which it's probably too late for," I said.

"She got all of us tickets, and just told me last night." Vanessa smiled. "So, we're going!"

'You're gonna have to find a guy to be engaged to for the weekend, then," Callie said. "And Joe will need a babysitter."

"Shut the fuck up, Callie."

"Did you tell her that there are two gay couples?" Phil asked. "Besides the fact that very few states recognize us…"

"Yeah, I told her. She said there are some other gay couples who signed up, so it shouldn't become _that_ big of a deal."

"As in it still could be a bit troubling," I concluded.

Vanessa hung her head. She often came up with a lot of ideas, but a good portion of them are… I guess the word is "unobtainable." This wasn't so off, but I guess she didn't think too far ahead with the excitement.

"Stop being so pessimistic," Ivy mumbled, not opening her eyes. "We can still go."

"It _is_ break for a reason," Callie added.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're ganging up on me," I said.

"Whatever made you think that?"

I was about to retort, when the doorbell rang. As Vanessa got up to answer, I decided to say what I was going to say. "Besides the fact that you seem ready to bitch at me…"

Callie gasped, and threw a pillow at me.

Joe laughed, and in the best parental voice he could use, said , "Now, now, Callie. Don't you think that you need to tone down? This is why you don't have a boyfriend-"

Another pillow was thrown, hitting my brother right in the face. "Joseph Hardy, say that again and I'll make sure that you and Van will _never_ have children."

"Cal, be nice," Ivy mumbled.

"It's not like Van would want her children to have _him_ for a father, anyways…"

"Cal..."

Vanessa came back, holding up a disc. She handed it to me before returning to her seat. "Graduation music from Sophie."

"What happened to keeping the music a secret?" Phil asked.

"A secret?" Joe repeated. "Why's that?"

"Remember last year?" I asked.

"Not particularly…"

"People knew what songs were playing, and planned some kind of… I guess you would call it a dance, except a fight ended up breaking out or something because of the coordination," Callie explained. "The fucking weirdest thing that ever happened."

"Wait, what?"

"Exactly."

Joe shook his head. "So the music is kept a secret because some screwy thing that no one understands happened last year?"

"Yeah. But why did I…" I looked at the disc again. "Van, are our names registered to go to that thing?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"This isn't a CD."

We were all silent for a moment.

"Shit," Joe finally said. "Lemme guess. We're probably gonna end up running around in dresses and tuxes, screaming our heads off because some asshole wants us dead."

"Perfect." Callie rolled her eyes. "Just fucking perfect."

"My parents aren't here," Vanessa offered. "We can play it now."

I got up to put the disc in the DVD player, feeling as pissed off as my brother. I mean, saving lives is awesome and all, but sometimes a wedding showcase should be just that; a simple wedding showcase.

"_Hello, agents."_ The contact began the second I sat back down. Callie let out a groan, and started to give the screen a death glare.

"Callie, glaring at the screen won't help."

"Shut up."

"_I'm sorry that we have to make your trip un-enjoyable, but I'm afraid that the event you were planning to attend has a bit of bad history attached to it."_

"You know what I hate?" Joe said suddenly. "These people can read your minds! They're like aliens or something."

"Or something would be a pretty good guess," Phil said.

"If they could read minds, then they would know about Van," I pointed out.

"Guys," Ivy interrupted, sitting up with her eyes wide open. "What's with all of the pics of dead people?"

We look at the screen, and found ourselves seeing a slideshow of dead people. Brides, grooms, and others that seemed to be connected to a wedding. It was a variety of causes of death, too. Some were obviously gunshots or stabbing, while others seemed to have choked or maybe poisoned. But they all gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I thought it would be more of thieves who took the rings…" Joe mumbled.

"_These deaths, while appearing random in many ways, all have a connection; one or more of the people who are a part of the showcase had helped out in each wedding."_

The picture on the television changed to one of a photo of a hotel. It looked peaceful and inviting, with flowers growing all around and the sky being clear…

Great. I now felt like I was watching some kind of commercial.

"_The hotel that this event is being held at is known at the Flower Garden, which has a history for hosting such events. The majority of the staff, as well as the couples attending the event, are young. Three pairs of high school sweethearts wound not draw suspicion compared to some other methods that had been planned."_

"Did they forget that some of us were gay?" Phil mumbled.

"_It is your job to determine if any of the people there are murderers."_ The contact paused, before continuing. _"Frank and Joe, there is another issue that has risen due to this. The man in charge of this showcase has become very worried about all of the deaths. In hopes of preventing further murders, he has hired a PI."_

I felt my breath hitch, and I pretty sure the same happened to Joe.

"_Your father was the hired PI."_

* * *

I do think high school is kinda early to be engaged, but I know more than a few that have done so, and some that have survived.

And yes, they do swear a lot...


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

We stared at the screen as the disc self-destructed in its usual way; reformatting itself to become a regular CD. (Which I still haven't figured out how the hell it does that. I'm not sure that even Phil can understand how it works.)

"You guys don't have to go," Callie said.

"We have to, Cal," Frank protested. "I'm not gonna sit on the sidelines and let this murderer run around."

"Besides, I want to see who Dad will bring." Everyone just gave me a look. "What?"

"Question at the moment is, are you and Van gonna get engaged within the next twenty-four hours?" Phil pointed out.

"Depends. Van, can you make sure that your dad doesn't kill me?"

She frowned. "I forgot about Dad. Hm… You have the rings?"

"They've been burning a hole in my pocket for a month," I admitted, pulling them out and handing them to her.

Van smiled as she examined them. "Oh my God, they're so pretty!"

"Well, bro?" Frank said, smirking. "No corny line to respond with?"

"In fact, I do have one." I paused while everyone except Vanessa groaned. "I had to get a ring that is as pretty as my beautiful wife to be. This ring, while having astounding qualities-"

"Good job, Frank. He's giving a fucking speech," Callie mumbled.

"While the ring has _astounding qualities_-" I repeated, "-it does not even come close to you, Vanessa. Nothing can surpass your beauty-"

"Except every other girl that he sees."

"Hey, I was faithful!" I glared at Frank. "Your beauty puts people to shame. So beautiful, that ugly people go into hiding. That means we won't be seeing Frank ever again-"

"Okay, that's it." My brother got up, and literally lunged at me. We started wrestling in the middle of the room, and the other four were cheering us on.

Frank got the upper hand in about a minute. As he held me in a headlock, he said, "Van, please actually think about marrying Joe. You _don't_ want to be with a guy like him."

"Hey!"

"I second that," Callie added.

"And me," Phil said.

"Figures you'll be on his- Hey! Ow!"

"And me," Ivy said.

"Okay, what did I do to you, Ivy?"

"Told me the worse mistake was getting engaged to Cal."

"That's because she's fucking crazy. And let me go, Frank!"

"Wait, hold on," Vanessa said. "I already thought this over, so let me do this before you kill each other." She held the ring out in front of my face. "Joe, will you marry me?"

Brilliant. If she asks me, then her dad couldn't really get mad at me. (Believe, it was a good thing. The first time I missed a date because of a mission, he read me the riot act. Van saved my ass after that by pretending to go out, and really just hanging out either by herself or with some friends.)

"Yes, I would love to."

"Good." She pulled the ring back. "You can get it as soon as you two stop fighting."

"Fine."

And Frank and I continued to wrestle, to the entertainment of everyone else.

------------

"That's great!" Mom exclaimed at the table during lunch. We had spent the morning packing, and just told our mom about the wedding showcase.

Phil was here, too. His parents had some kind of business trip to go to, so he was staying with us until after the weekend. (Except it wasn't really a weekend, and more like a week. Usually, Memorial Day Weekend would only be three or four days long, counting both the weekend and school days, but this year we got a total of seven. Sometimes, a non-snowy winter is a good thing. Especially when the snow days get stocked up and used at times like these.)

It's hard to believe that I'm actually getting any sleep. I expected to hear moaning all through the night with these two-

~Frank

Shut the fuck up, Joe.

~Joe

I am stating the obvious facts, Frank. Besides, this is _my _part-

~Frank

You sleep through everything, so how the fuck could you manage to hear us?

~Joe

You're scaring me with all the "fucks," bro. Besides, I do not sleep through everything. If you got laid, then I would know about it- Wait. Are you saying…?

~Frank

And Phil thought you would wake up-

~Joe

Okay, _you_ need to shut the fuck up. It's still _my_ part!

_Anyways,_ Mom started her usual round of Twenty Questions.

"How much thought have you given the weddings?" She didn't start out with the "Aren't you too young?" with me, probably because she was happy and knew that we were responsible. Frank listing off all of those things when he got engaged didn't hurt, either.

"Van and I looked at some stuff her cousin gave us," I said after swallowing a mouthful of sandwich. "We're up for anything right now, though."

"Sounds just your fath…"

Frank decided to intervene before Mom started getting depressed. "Phil and I have a bunch of things planned. Right, Phil?"

"Yup. A few days before Halloween-"

"On your anniversary, I bet," I added.

Now I know that Phil has been hanging around Frank for way too long. He ignored me, just like Frank does sometimes. "-and it'll be masquerade-themed."

"Wonderful," Mom said, somewhat pulled out of the bad mood she almost got into. "What else have you decided on?"

"We have an idea for the tuxedos," Frank said, grabbing some chips. "An angel/demon set."

"And who's the demon?" I asked.

"He is." Frank and Phil both said that at the same time, point to each other.

I cracked up. "You have no fu-"

"Joseph."

"Sorry Mom. So, you two have no idea yet, do you?"

Frank shrugged. "We'll decide eventually. Besides, we're planning on having the ceremony after we graduate college, remember?"

"Yeah, but before you know it, you'll be at the altar."

"Same goes to you, little bro."

"And then come the kids," I joked. "Before you know it, Mom, you'll be a grandmother!"

"It's scary enough to think about you two getting married."

"Well, it could be worse. We could all be hermits."

----------------

"Why are we at the mall?" I asked.

"Because both you and Vanessa thought it would be a good idea to learn more about your options," Frank explained, rolling his eyes. "That way, when we go tomorrow, you won't embarrass the rest of us."

"But Van-"

"Is with Callie and Ivy, looking through dresses." Phil smiled. "They promised not to convince her out of the engagement."

"Yeah right." I got out of the car, and started heading to the entrance. "But why the mall?"

"Tanner works at the bakery here. He gave us a run down on cakes, so he's gonna do the same to you." Frank sighed, walking beside me.

"It's a fucking cake."

Phil cringed a bit. "Maybe we _should _have brought Van."

"Girls and dresses, remember?" Frank said.

"I thought Callie said she was wearing a tux."

"She would," I said, opening the door. The sudden blast of AC startled me for a second. It wasn't too warm outside, but the cooler air was welcomed in my opinion.

The bakery was only a few minutes walk away from the entrance we had parked in front of. The display cases had a lot of different baked goods. Cookies, pastries, and cakes.

I just had lunch, and now I'm hungry. Damn.

"Hey, Tanner!" Phil said over the counter to a guy who was reading.

"Yo! Frank, Phil, and Joe!" Tanner is a pretty cool kid. A GSACA member that I was introduced to the first day I went to a meeting. He had a great sense of humor and a lot of talent in the cooking/baking area. "What's up?"

"Joe just got engaged, and we have a wedding showcase to go to tomorrow," Frank explained. "You think-"

"Save your breath, dude. Congrats, Joe." He gave me a thumbs up. "I got all of the wedding stuff over here." He led us to the back, where a bookshelf of wedding magazines and books were stored. "Look through them, while get out an order."

I grabbed one randomly, and flipped through it. "Wow… just… wow."

"Just a fucking cake, huh?" Frank said, smirking.

"Dude, how many different ways can you decorate a cake?"

"The boundary line is wherever imagination ends." Phil took out a different book. "And you can't forget flavor."

"It's only been twelve hours, and I think I'm way in over my head." I sighed. "What kind of cake do guys think you'll get?"

"Marble. Haven't decided on the decorations." Frank pulled out another book. "You think about it, Phil?"

"Attempted and failed." Phil sighed. "Although there is one idea that I have-"

"Hey, Joe!"

I didn't look up. I didn't want to look up. It's not that I hated them with a passion… Okay, maybe I hate them a little bit.

Chet and Biff were walking towards us. The last time I talked to either of them… I don't remember. It was probably short and pointless.

They _did_ apologize to Frank and Phil. But things between us never fixed themselves. For all that we were concerned with, they were still assholes. And as far as they were concern with us, we were just people who stopped being cool, and therefore shouldn't be bothered with.

Did I miss them being my friends? A little. But I made a ton of new friends through Vanessa and the GSACA. And those friends seem quite a bit more open than them.

"What are you doing here?" Shit. Andrew was here, so that meant Iola was here too. I had long got over that crush I had on her with Vanessa's help. But sometimes, Iola would get competitive with her relationship and mine. Ivy says that Iola's just jealous, and wished that I was her boyfriend instead of Andrew.

Sorry Iola. You had your chance.

"Looking at wedding cakes," I said obviously, finally looking up.

"I thought Frank and Phil would already have that covered," Iola said, her grip on Andrew's arm getting a little bit tighter.

"It's for mine," I said absentmindedly. "Van and I got engaged."

"Oh." The surprise in her voice wasn't hard to hear. She had been dating Andrew for a month longer than Van and I, so it might have been a blow to her ego that we're engaged first. "Congrats."

"Thanks." I tried to look back at the photos of different wedding cakes, but I just couldn't concentrate.

"Hey, here's your order." Tanner came up, and handed a box to Chet.

"Thanks. See you guys later." The group left quietly.

The rest of us were quiet for a second, before I asked, "Think she's jealous?"

It took only another second for the others to answer: "Of course."

* * *

The thing about the CD reformatting is actually my question. I still can't figure out how they do it... maybe they're aliens. O.o

And the headlock thing was inspired by a book. I just don't remember which...

It's not just a cake Joe! I thought we had a bond!!!


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew (mentioned briefly).  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Frank

_"That's great!"_ Nancy exclaimed over the phone. _"Joe better invite me to the wedding!"_

"He will. I'll make sure of it," I promised. I leaned against the wall next to my bed. Phil was next to me, drawing away in his sketchbook. The night was warm (as it had been for the past week or so), but not stuffy.

_"So that's three weddings in Bayport sometime in the future."_

"Any weddings in River Heights?"

_"George and Livius seem pretty close. Carl and I are still going steady, but not anywhere close to engagement."_

I smiled. After everything that happened in Bayport, Nancy had spent some time experimenting with her preferences in partners. She eventually settled as being bisexual, and received support from her school's newly established GSA.

Whatever she and Ned has was long gone, especially since Ned's little car accident turned out to be what ended his life. He had somehow gotten his hands on some alcohol (we haven't figured out exactly how), took his car around, and driven up a mountain about half an hour from here. He went over a cliff, tumbled over some rocks, and eventually was stopped by a tree.

I might have really disliked the guy, but that was one _really_ painful death.

"Well, tell us when the wedding is."

_"Will do. What time is it, anyways…? Damn. Listen, I gotta go. I promised to help my dad-"_

"Say no more. Go solve the case, Nance."

_"Talk to you later, then."_

I turned off the cordless phone, and placed it on the nightstand. "Nancy's doing well."

"And you're shaking on the inside."

"I am not," I lied.

Phil sighed, not looking up from his sketchbook. "You're scared about your dad. Can't blame you, either."

"You're scare too, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'm worried how's he gonna react to this. I mean, dating a guy is one thing. But marriage?"

This time, it was me who sighed. "Remember what Joe told me back at the airport after we found out Dad was leaving?"

"That was more than a year ago, Frank. Do you really think I would remember?"

"He told me to be selfish and do what I want, not what Dad wanted. Yeah, I'm scared, but I'm gettin' what I want; you."

"Joe must have rubbed off on you," Phil said with a chuckle. "Please don't get corny on me."

I decided to ignore that comment for now. Instead, I leaned against his arm, closing my eyes. "You've already faced the worst with my mom."

"She didn't _do_ anything to me."

"Exactly. She had the most important opinion about us getting married. I mean, not like anything she could have said would have made me change my mind…"

"But…?"

"She's immediate family. Well, Joe is too, but the way he reacted basically screamed approval." I shifted my head a little bit. "She was so happy about getting you for a son in law."

"Same with my parents. Except my dad said something, and my mom smacked him in the back of the head…" Phil shook his head. "At least your mom's normal."

"Did you see who I have for a brother?"

"Did someone mention me?" I heard the door of my room open, and a group of people walk in.

"Hi Cal, Ivy, and Van. You could have left Joe outside."

"Hey…" I could hear my brother's frown in his voice. "I was gonna ask you something…"

"Ask away."

"Think Dad might use a disguise?"

I almost bolted forward. "Shit. I completely-"

"I did too, bro. I only remembered because I found a picture while I was cleaning my room-"

Callie, Ivy, and I coughed really loudly. Callie added, "You, clean? You're fucking-"

"Aunt Trudy always told me that if I were to invite a lady into the house-" Joe started, pointing at Vanessa, "-that I should clean my room. She might not be here, and neither is Playback, but I took her words to heart."

"So, the big issue is that we might be able to tell if your dad's there at all," Phil concluded, probably trying to keep us on track before we (by we, I mean either Callie or me) make fun of Joe.

"We might," Ivy said, looking at me. "I mean, if it's really good, we might miss it, but if we had some pictures…"

Another thing that had changed over the fifteen months; each of us had honed in on a particular skill or two. Phil and Vanessa had made a really good team with dealing with anything electronic. They even hacked into the school computers a few times (for mission purposes, of course). Callie had taken a lot of self-defense classes, along with some kickboxing and other stuff. She's definitely a force to be reckoned with. Joe had also trained with Callie, but also looked into being the "people's person," as he refers it to. Basically, he was able to get almost any information out of someone.

Ivy and I had both taken psychology courses, but varied in talents. She was more of the "here and now" analysis person, while I was pretty good with placing motives on people.

"Pictures? Why?" Joe asked.

"Comparing real Dad to some of his disguises. See if there are any noticeable things we could catch." I got up from the bed. "I think he had some pictures with his old files."

"But did he leave them here?" Callie asked.

I looked at Joe, who just shrugged in return. "I haven't been his study since he left."

"Same here. I don't think we've opened the door or cleaned it."

"Is it locked?" Vanessa asked. "I don't want to end up breaking the door…"

"No. We should be able to get anything we need." I walked over to my desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a lock pick set. "Shall we?"

"After you." We all headed to the study, which had been left alone since Dad left.

It felt wrong, in a way. When Dad was here, Joe and I only entered when Dad let us, or when it was an emergency. And we never went through all of his things. And now, we were tossing all of that out the window.

Then again, it was gonna help us find him.

The study was really empty when we turned the light on. Most of the books had been moved to New York City, which just made everything seem bare. The desk that we were used to seeing things piled on was also bare. Really, there was nothing but dust.

Joe tried a filing cabinet that was leaning against the wall. "It's unlocked." He pulled it open, and his eyes grew wide. "I thought Dad took all of the files with him."

"Maybe be left the by accident," Callie suggested.

"This seems too much for an accident." He motioned for all of us to look, which we did.

"That's a lot of files," Vanessa commented.

"Looks like he grabbed some, and left these here for some reason." Ivy pulled the first one out, opened it up, and began to read the information. "Amy Sniper. Rape victim."

Callie pulled out the next one, and followed suit. "Sarah Whitney. Raped and murdered."

We all started to pull out files at that point, and reading aloud what each one said.

"Barbara Williams. Raped and torture."

"Erin Wallstone. Rape victim."

"Donald Sato. Rape victim."

"Alex Moony. Raped and killed." Phil dropped the folder onto the empty desk, sending dust everywhere. "Anyone else see the pattern?"

"I don't get it," Joe said. "Why did Dad leave these here?"

"Did your dad have a bad case involving rape?" Ivy asked.

I racked through my memories, and shook my head. "I don't remember him saying anything about one. Joe?"

"Nope. He talked about murder and stuff, but never rape."

Callie frowned. "There could have been a really bad case."

"Or maybe he though they were too young. You know, protecting the innocent and stuff?" Vanessa said.

"He trusted us with a lot back then," I said, skimming through the file in my hands. "He would even tell us about the most disgusting murders. There was this one-"

"Frank, don't." Phil held up his hand. "Spare us the details."

"It sounds like your dad was hiding something from you, then," Ivy said finally. "And you're gonna get a chance to ask him exactly what it was tomorrow."

----------------

The car ride was three hours long. Six teenagers in Mom's van for three hours isn't a good combination. Especially if Callie and Joe are arm's length apart.

"You left a fucking bruise-"

"If you weren't fucking _kicking_ the back of the chair-"

"Both of you, do us a favor and shut the fuck up. All I've been hearing is 'Fuck you' this whole trip," I complained from the passenger's seat.

"How much longer?" Ivy asked, leaning against the window.

"It should be right here," Phil said, frowning. He had taken this shift with driving, and was currently sitting behind the wheel.

"Sure it isn't that guy gene telling you that? You know, the one that tells a guy he knows where he's going, and ends up getting everyone completely lost?" Vanessa teased.

"Weren't _you _the one who gave me the directions?"

"It's right there." I pointed to a hill a little to our right. The advertisements about this place seemed true so far; isolated and peaceful.

"Perfect." Within a few minutes, we were all out, stretching and taking our bags out from the back.

"Van!" A brunette woman came almost running from the entrance towards Vanessa.

"Tasha!" The two embraced, before Vanessa introduced all of us. "You guys, this is my cousin, Natasha. Natasha, this is my fiancé, Joe."

"Nice to meet you," my brother said, extending his hand.

"And we're just the chopped liver," Callie whispered, low enough so only Ivy and I could hear.

Apparently, Vanessa heard too. "I was getting to you, Cal." Rolling her eyes, she said to her cousin, "This is Callie and her fiancée, Ivy."

"Ignore Cal," Ivy said with a smile. "She woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag today."

"And the last two guys are Frank and Phil," Vanessa said.

"I'm glad you all came. At least now I know six of the guests." Natasha laughed. "I gotta help set up. See you all tonight."

When Natasha passed through the entrance, Callie asked Vanessa, "She's as bubbly as you, isn't she?"

"Runs in the family." She pulled her suitcase beside her. "Shall we?"

The six of us entered the hotel. I instantly started looking at the guests, trying to spot my father among them.

Ivy caught me. "Try at the couch with the newspaper."

I turned my gaze toward the area, and frowned. It was dear old Dad, alright. He was wearing a disguise that made him look younger, but Ivy and I had studied enough pictures of Dad with and without some kind of costume to recognize him.

"You'd think it'd be harder than that," I mumbled, tapping Joe on the shoulder. "We found him."

* * *

And now the fun starts...


	4. Chapter 4

I'm _really_ sorry that it took me this long to get up the chapter. There's been a lot going on for me. I'm not sure how fast I can get the other chapters out, but I will try (no guarentees, however).  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

"Shit," I muttered, looking to the figure that Frank had pointed out verbally. "Why now? We just checked in!"

"He probably didn't know what time we were coming," Ivy pointed out. "He hasn't even looked up yet."

"Should we talk to him now?" Frank asked, sound a bit worried.

I thought it over for a second, before shaking my head. "He's in the zone, doing his thing. We should settle down and deal with him later."

"Someone sounds mature…" Callie mumbled as she wheeled her suitcase towards the elevator.

"Was that supposed to be an insult?" I picked up my bag from the floor, and looked up to find the girl retreating. "Hey!"

-----------

"So, everyone have a room key?" Phil asked, sitting on the bed. We were all in the same room (whoever's smart idea to put six teenagers in the same hotel room is nuts), and had already made claims to the beds.

Well, technically, we already knew who had the bed and who had the couch. But I really didn't want to keep on having to pull out the folded up bed…

"I'm still convinced you guys set us up," I complained for probably the fifth time since we got into the room, which was about ten minutes ago.

"You and Van lost poker yesterday, Hardy. For someone who's supposed to have skills, you fucking suck," Callie said, looking at the menu that was left on the table. "There's a restaurant/bar thing downstairs. Should we go there for lunch?"

"Why'd we use _poker_ to decide on rooms, anyways?"

"We were bored, remember?" Frank said. I could tell, without looking at him, that he was rolling his eyes.

"It's rude to roll your eyes, Franklin. What do they have at the restaurant, Cal?"

"A bit of everything, it looks like. They have a party appetizer platter with a whole bunch of stuff."

"Sounds good." Vanessa got up from the couch, going through her bag for her purse. "We should probably get a look at what they're setting up, too."

"It was fun and cool for five seconds, and then the mission comes and ruins it," Ivy commented. "Just like every other time."

"Hey, not everything's fun and cool. There was this one time where Frank and I had to go undercover in a ballerina place."

"Seriously?"

"They claimed that there weren't any female agents that they could use at the time. But I bet that there was someone at headquarters who was laughing at us." I sighed, shaking my head. "And Dad-"

The rest of the sentence never came out. For some reason, seeing Dad (despite the disguise) after no dealing with him in any way for a year just unwound some of me. I was so used to trash talking about him, but now…

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Vanessa smiled, patting me on the back. "We should go and eat right now."

"Yeah…" I glanced at Frank, and saw that he was affected the same way I was. Or, at least, he seemed hurt. But there was something in his eye that I couldn't identify. Hatred, maybe? Or something worse?

We left the room quietly, Frank and Phil taking the lead to the restaurant. Ivy hung back a few steps, though.

"You saw it too, didn't you?" I asked quietly, my eyes not leaving my brother's figure that was slowly retreating.

"Yeah."

"What was it? Anger? Fear?"

"I think… I think it was disappointment."

"You sure?" It didn't make sense. Disappointment? Did Frank _want_ to deal with Dad sooner? Or was it directed at someone?

We walked quietly to the restaurant, each of us probably contemplating their own issues. Me? I kept imagining how Dad was going to react to us. Would he push us away? Tell us this mystery is too dangerous because he's actually worried?

We were quiet when we ordered our meal, but as the wait for the food dragged on longer and longer, we began another group discussion. Since we were in a corner by our lonesome selves, the talk moved back towards the mission.

"Should we not worry about the brides- and grooms-to-be?" Vanessa asked. "I mean, they can't be suspects… can they?"

"It's possible," Frank said. "There's a really small chance that they were invited to every single one, but maybe they hacked into a database or something."

"My question is if the person has an issue with weddings. Out of all the days of the year, why choose the one where people are supposed to be happy?"

"Because some fucking idiot likes being an asshole?" Callie said, rolling her eyes.

"That would make them a fucking asshole then, Shaw."

"No arguing you two, please?" Ivy started to stir the ice in her soda with her straw. "I don't think that any of them were crimes of passions. All of them were planned out in some way, but the methods are totally different from one another."

"There could be two killers," Phil added.

"Fuck. Just what we need. Two of them." I sighed.

"Waiter," Vanessa said, looking over Frank's shoulder.

We stopped talking, as a young man (probably just out of college for a year or two) came and put down the enormous plate on the table. "Sorry for talking so long. The regular staff isn't here, and I usually make cakes."

"A wedding cake baker?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm just helping out for extra cash. Are you guys here for the wedding showcase?"

"Yup."

"Seem kinda young."

"It'll work out," I said with confidence. We had all managed to help each other out if there was a rough spot, and the missions did bring everyone a little bit closer together. It'll hopefully work out through college. "I'm Joe by the way. That's Vanessa, Ivy, Callie, Phil, and Frank."

"Friends?"

Frank sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Joe's my brother."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"No arguing now, please. I'm gonna get a headache," Ivy complained. Callie sent me a death glare, which I tried to send right back. But it came out weird, since I wasn't really angry.

"I'm Gail."

"You look kinda young to be an experienced baker," Callie said, ignoring the glare that Ivy quickly sent.

"Yeah. Still learning and all." He let out a quick laugh. "But it's nice seeing all of the couples. I mean, even…" He trailed off, his cheeks beginning to go pink. "Uh, I gotta go. See you guys at tonight!"

"First suspect?" Phil asked as Gail disappeared behind the doors leading to the kitchen.

"Yup."

-------------

Dinner came really quickly. We had spent most of the afternoon just looking around the place, trying to figure our way around (in case we get chased down by a bad guy with a knife or gun or something).

"Why are we assigned seats?" Callie complained most of the way to the humongous conference room/ball room that we were eating in. "We're all grown adults!"

"Technically, we're still in high school," I pointed out. "Even though you and Frank and Phil only have one more month, the rest of us aren't so lucky."

"I think I heard someone say something about us meeting other couples," Ivy said. "Sometimes, people just go into a little shell because they're shy."

"But _we're_ not."

"Speak for yourself."

"Well, we'll be over in that corner," Phil said, jerking his head towards one of the tables way off and secluded from the main cluster. "See you guys later."

"And be careful," Frank added, looking directly at me.

"You always say that to me. I've suffered years and years of hearing that fucking line over and over…"

Frank rolled his eyes as he walked away, half dragging Phil behind him. Probably one of his ingenious ways to tell me "Get back to the mission."

"See you guys later?" Ivy said, eyeing another table. "I want to get there and meet the people before something stupid happens."

"You mean something murderous." Callie held out her arm, and once Ivy took it, led her to the table, only giving us a glance that Frank would have approved of.

"Shall we, my lady?" I smiled towards Vanessa, who returned it, before frowning.

"What happens if I see your dad?"

"Don't go up to him. Just let him be his undercover asshole self. We'll deal with him… after the mission." I thought it over for a second. Frank and I had managed to talk about this particular issue earlier. It kinda felt like a race to see who would solve the case first. And I never thought I say this, but I hope that Dad would lose this one.

And just as we walked up to the table, I thought how our luck was particularly screwed.

_That's Dad. And a young, possibly hot woman if you have a midlife crisis. At the table that we're supposed to sit at._

_Fuck._

* * *

If any of you have been reading "Shattering the Broken", you would know that I had made a comment about finishing this story by the end of September. That was before all of this stuff got piled onto me. I apologize, and this story is gonna take a while to get all out. Now, there is a thing that I would like to ask you guys out there who have taken the time and are reading this (thank you very much, by the way. It means a lot to me :D). In my profile, there is a poll concerning if I will write a Halloween base Hardy Boys story during October. One of the choices is that I do not, and instead concintrate on this story as well as the Assassin series. The others are about a type of story I should write. If you can, please go over and vote. Thank you :D


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the long delay. It's probably going to be like this for a long while... T.T  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

_Shit._

Vanessa nudged me forward. "Remember what you said? After the mission, not now."

"Yeah. Right." I paused for a second. "You know that when I said that, I didn't think I would have to deal with the fucking issue till later."

"Uh huh."

"And you know I'm shaking, right?"

"I would guess so."

"And that I'm beginning to think that I'm gonna marry a sadist."

"Thank you." She smiled a sweet, innocent smile.

I couldn't help but sigh. "Let's get it over with."

We walked over, most of it involving me reminding myself, _Don't call him Dad. Or asshole. Or fucking bastard who deserted his family._ Instead of making me feel a little bit better, it just made me feel like I'll screw up more.

"Hi," Vanessa started pleasantly to the three couples (including my father and his… date) that were already seated. "I'm Vanessa, and this is Joe."

I'm glad she was outgoing; at the moment, I was anything _but._

One of the couples, appearing in their mid to late twenties, automatically smiled. The woman started the round of introductions. "I'm Clara. And this is my fiancé, Roger."

Roger, the man to her left, immediately burst out with, "The two couples you were with- I mean- Well… Are they fighting?"

"Huh?" I was pretty sure the only things that happened that even remotely looked like some kind of argument were directed to poor old me. And they looked pretty couple-ly and all and-

Ooooohhhhhh.

"They're gay," I explained. "It happens, though. We all hang out together a lot, and some people think that it's all boy-girl, but that's only me and Van."

"Oh." He almost instantly became very, very red. Kinda like how Frank does and-

Ouch. I think Frank just mentally slapped me. Either that, or Vanessa can read thoughts and hit people very quickly.

The other couple, the one without my dad, had mixed reactions. The guy was smiling, but the girl… well, let's just say that calling it "anger seething" was a clear understatement.

"That's disgusting," she promptly declared.

"Jane…" the man next to her said.

"It's simply not natural, Odell."

I really didn't want to explain to her that yes, it was actually natural in other creatures besides humans. Vanessa was gripping my arm, so I could tell she rather that I not do so either. So instead, I kept my anger to myself and said, "Well, you can think what you want, but you're missing out on meeting some really nice-"

"Let's go, Odell." She got up, and left the table. Odell shrugged at us, apologized rather quickly, and followed after.

_Do not call her a bitch. Do not yell at her, call her a fucking bitch, and cause a scene._ So, instead, I held my tongue (and my anger), and pulled a chair out so Vanessa could sit.

"Thanks," she mumbled, squeezing my hand. She probably wanted to smack Jane right across the face, but like me, had to restrain herself.

Clara was frowning. "She was like that when she sat down, too. I wish I told her off earlier."

"It's okay. It happens a lot." I looked down, trying not to show any kind of sadness. Especially with _him_ at the table. "It's not the first, and not the last."

Roger, who had gotten over his embarrassment, said, "It sounds like all of you have to go through a lot."

"Yeah, we do." I could hear my past tears in my voice, but I couldn't shed any actual tears. The last time that happened was after Dad left.

For all the show that I put on about not caring about him leaving, I felt like shit when he left.

"Sounds like you have some bigger problems," the woman next to Dad said.

"Huh? Oh…" I couldn't find the words to say at the moment. Luckily, she filled my silence.

"I'm Nathalie, and this is Greg."

Greg. Huh. That was the name of the first kid that Stacy killed. The time when I was finally accepting Frank for who he was. The time when we figured out that Dad could very well be our biggest enemy.

Was it on purpose?

I looked at Dad, and for a moment, I could see a look of panic across his face. But it relaxed within seconds. I had learned to hide my emotions from my face pretty well, especially if I could hide my anger from him.

"Nice to meet you," Vanessa said, her hand still over mine.

"I hate to be prying…" Nathalie looked down, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "I'm a psychologist, so..."

"Yeah, I get it." I wonder how she got roped into helping Dad. Unless they're actually in love, and Dad sent divorce papers to Mom. Or maybe she's just here to learn human behavior when people get married. Or maybe…

Ugh. Too many possibilities. Too much thinking. I'll ask Frank to do his analysis thing later.

Either way, she offered me a perfect way to send a message to Dad. Pretending I don't know he was sitting right across from him and bullshitting about what an asshole he was seemed too good to pass up.

"Our dad… I mean, well, one of the guys you saw? The one without the glasses, about an inch shorter. He's my brother, Frank. Awesome guy that'll I'll introduce you all to later. Anyways, when Frank finally came out of the closet, our Dad didn't… didn't react favorably. And he moved, too. Haven't seen him for over a year."

Clara nodded her head. "He sounds like a bastard."

Icing on the cake.

"Yeah, that's what we summed up from all of this. But still… You can't help but miss it."

By then, the lights were starting to dim except at the center, which served as both a stage and a dance floor. A man, I'm guessing about middle age, walked on it with a microphone in hand.

"Hello, folks. I'm Bruce Craig, the organizer and host to this event."

_Two sentences in, and I'm already bored._

"Now, some of you might not know what a wedding showcase is. I'll admit, it's still a new concept. But we try and make it easy for you. We bring everything to you, and show our stuff for the next few days. Hopefully, this will be very helpful."

_Can you shut up so we can eat?_

_This is gonna be a loooooooonnnnnng mission._

-----------

We finally got back to the rooms way past ten. After some quick talking, we discovered that none of us did any real investigating; just getting to know people and surroundings.

"No big deal," Callie concluded, pulling out her PJs. "We know some suspects. And Joe learned some things about your dad's cover. I think that's pretty good for the first day."

"Yeah. But tomorrow, we actually have to look into things. You know, like detectives do?"

"Nice going, Frank. Killed any good mood that I had," I joked, punching him in the shoulder. "Not that seeing Dad already did it…"

"Let's stop talking about the case," Ivy suggested. "Let's go to sleep, and deal with all of this tomorrow."

"Fine." I shot a smirk at Frank. "And no sex, since we're in the same hotel room."

"Just for that, I just might indulge myself."

"Nice going, Joe. Now we won't get any sleep," Phil joked.

"Why are you complaining?"

"Good question…"

"Okay, that's it. Everyone, just go to bed."

"Yes ma'am!" I saluted Callie, who just rolled her eyes in response.

Even an hour later, I couldn't sleep. And no, Frank and Phil were not having sex and moaning loudly and all of that stuff. It was my mind running over the idea of Dad. Just seeing him seemed to have reopened my wounds… or something like that.

I snuck out of bed, reached into my book bag and grabbed something, and walked into the bathroom.

"Joe?"

"Shit, Frank, don't do that!" I hissed. I pulled him in, shut the door, and turned on the lights.

"What are you- Is that-"

"Yes, it's the family album. I just…" I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, running my free hand through my hair. "I grabbed it last minute this morning. I dunno… I just remembered seeing it left behind in Dad's office, and I thought that it'll be important later."

Frank sat down next to me. "And?"

"Now I'm wondering why I brought it at all."

"For comfort." Frank took the album out of my hand. "Dad used to show us this one a lot, remember? It had pictures from when he was in high school till when we first entered high school."

"Yeah." I couldn't help but smile. "I loved looking through here."

"Then let's look, for memory sake."

"Why not?"

Frank flipped over the first page, when a picture fell to the bathroom floor. There were two guys standing there with arms wrapped around each other's shoulder.

"Who's the guy standing next to Dad?" I asked, trying to recall the face from memory.

"I dunno. Never seen him before." Frank picked it up, and examined the page. "Looks like this picture was hidden behind another."

"Why'd Dad do that?"

Frank shrugged. "Maybe something happened to the kid."

"Maybe." I took the picture, and returned it back to its place. "You do realize that this whole time, we talk as if Dad was dead, right?"

"He is to us, Joe." My brother set the album on the floor, and propped his head on his hands, which were propped on his knees. "I can't help but wonder if it would make a difference to us if he died."

"Let's hope we don't get to that point now."

"Still, you can't help but wonder…"

* * *

So... apparently, not many people that I know know what a wedding showcase is. I really hope I didn't make it up without realizing...


	6. Chapter 6

**Please read before reading the chapter.  
**I want to warn you guys of a brief mention of rape and murder here. Not really big, but just thought I should give you a heads up.  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Frank

"It's too early!" Joe complained. _Again._

We were all tired, I'll admit. But Joe just had to whine and complain the whole freakin' hour…

How we are related, I shall never know.

Callie groaned to Joe's complaint. "Shut the fuck up, Hardy. I swear, one more word, and you're gonna find yourself-"

"Is this a new record?" Phil joked, checking his watch. "The shortest amount of time it took for some kind of insult to pass between the two is-"

"Can it, Cohen."

"Wait, wait, wait. You fucking curse and all at me, but you let Phil get away with just a 'can it'? The fuck?"

This was becoming the longest elevator ride it my life. Sighing, I looked over to Ivy and Vanessa. Ivy was never really a morning person, and looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up. Vanessa, on the other hand, was listening to music and completely ignoring the conversation her fiancé was currently in.

"Are you two done yet?" I asked, just as the doors slid open to the first floor. "I want a peaceful breakfast, if you don't mind."

"You jinxed us," Phil joked. "Now we'll never have any kind a peaceful meal with all of us together."

"Then we have to kick someone out. I nominate Joe."

"_I_ nominate Callie."

Ivy, who seemed to have woken up the second the elevator stopped, pushed Phil and me out the door. "I don't care who you nominate. Let's eat."

"Someone's a grouch…" Joe observed, following behind us.

Callie managed to pry Ivy off of us. "You have to feed her to find my lovable girl. Right?"

"Food now please?" The girl managed to pull out a sad, puppy dog face and changed her vocals to sound like a puppy that had been kicked.

"Food now." Callie pointed out a table, ushering us to sit down before we grabbed our food.

"You know, you should use that face more often, Ivy. I might actually believe that you're innocent and sweet and all," Joe said, laughing.

"Can we please focus?" I asked, sighing. "Remember why we're here."

"Yup. To have a good time!" My brother flashed a grin, which just made me groan. For one, can't he just be serious? Then again, that would signal something wrong with Joe…

"Joe! Vanessa!" A young woman was waving to us, dragging who I guessed was her fiancé, and walking towards us. I'm going to take a wild guess in saying that Joe met this woman yesterday.

"Hey Clara, Roger." Joe nodded to each one in turn.

"So these are you friends, right?" Roger asked. He looked at all of us, but his gaze seemed to stay longer on me than the others. I mean, I could have imagined it, but it felt that it took longer for him to stop looking at me than it did for the others…

"Pretty much. The girl who is half asleep is Ivy. Crazy girl next to her is her fiancée, Callie-"

"Excuse me?"

Joe continued on, pretending that he didn't hear the threatening tone in Callie's voice. "The tall guy with the glasses is Phil, and the shorter one without the glasses is my bro, Frank."

The first thing that came out of my mouth was, "Seriously, Joe? There's only, what, an inch difference between Phil and me?" I was being serious, too. Phil was taller than me by an inch, maybe even less. We barely even notice it, and yet Joe goes and points it out like it's a big deal. (Maybe it's because I'm an inch taller than Joe. He always held that against me when we were younger. What can I say? I just happened to pick up some genes that made me an inch taller than him. And he's _six feet tall._ Why should it matter?)

Joe just gave what he called an "innocent smile," which looked more like a subtle smirk to me. I sent him back a glare, while Phil had smiled at the couple. "Nice to meet you both."

"Pleasure to meet you too," Roger said, sticking his hand out. Phil shook it, and I did afterwards. Clara had already started to get herself into a conversation with Callie and Ivy. Vanessa seemed to be drawn in, taking off her headphones and listening intently.

"Wasn't Ivy hungry like five seconds ago?" Joe asked, deciding that standing near us was a better option than getting stuck in the girls' conversation.

"She'll get hungry the second they stop talking," I predicted. "In fact, she probably is plotting to get out of the conversation right now, and replace herself with Van."

Roger laughed. "Sounds like Clara sometimes. If she hates a person, she won't even try to make some kind of peace with them."

Hm. I'm not sure if a light bulb went off in Joe's head, but it sure did in mine. If Clara wasn't willing to compromise, how far would she go? Would she go as far as murder someone else?

I might have been over analyzing. I mean, a lot of people don't easily compromise, but they don't go around murdering people. Joe and Callie are examples of this, if they really have a strong opinion about something. But they learned to channel their anger (mostly at each other, I think). And Clara did seem like a very happy person. But still…

If I had learned anything during the past few years, it's that you never know how a person reacts to something.

Roger continued to talk, mostly about small things. Phil and Joe were talking back, but the moment I tried to even look at the guy, my eyes focused to what was behind him.

There was Dad, about twenty feet away from where he was standing. He had a woman literally attached to his arm. She was average height with caramel hair, and I guess one can call her attractive. But the fact that she was holding onto my dad's arm and was probably the reason why he was smiling an idiotic smile tarnished that image in my mind.

The things that Joe told me last night flooded back to me, mostly in jumbles. She was a psychologist, which almost automatically put her in the "not likely to be friends" group (mainly due to Stacy's hypnotism and Dr. Stellar's attempted reversal process). She was supposed to seem nice, though. And Joe did point out that he couldn't find that little "bond" that brought the two together like the other couples here.

But that still didn't make me feel any better. This woman was replacing my mom in Dad's eyes, and he seemed quite happy about it.

Joe must have noticed, too. "Hey, Greg! Over here!"

Did he just _invite_ Dad over here?

Either my ears weren't deceiving me, or my eyes were. Dad walked over, a calm expression on his face. When his eyes locked with mine, I could feel myself freeze up. Did my face reveal my disgust? My hatred? The fact that I knew that it was Dad and not some guy named Greg? The fact that I wanted to beat the crap out of him?

_The knife was gleaming under the dim light. It was covered in crimson red. It was my blood he was still after…_

I forced my eyes closed when I felt a hand on my shoulder. My breathing had gotten faster within a matter of seconds. I could feel Roger's eyes on me, probably wonder what the hell was up with the gay guy.

"Frank, breathe," Phil said softly, pulling me towards him.

"Bro, I'm-"

"Don't," I hissed at Joe. "It's… it's fine. Just a relapse… It's nothing."

"Nothing?!" he hissed back. "Frank-"

"I'll be fine." I forced my eyes opened, staring at the floor. "It happens."

At that point, "Greg" and his girlfriend had walked over, watching my breakdown. It was said girlfriend who actually decided to ask, "What happened? Are you okay?"

What was I supposed to say? That Stacy's hypnotism from over a year ago still ruins my life? That I have relapses randomly? That I can still see the knife covered in my blood in my dreams, ready to strike down and kill me?

"Relapse of something… don't worry…" I managed to mutter, hoping that I wouldn't have to explain more.

I could feel Dad's gaze on me, even though I had yet to pick up my own from the floor tiles. Did I mess up? He had seen me break down before. Could he connect it to the past, and realize that I know the truth about his identity?

"I need to get something to eat." Without looking up, I walked over to the breakfast buffet that the hotel had set up.

Truthfully, I was sick to my stomach. I thought I had gotten over most of the effects from Stacy's hypnotism. Once in a while, there'll be a bad dream that resulted in Joe or Phil shaking me awake. Those nights are the times that I don't get much sleep. It's even rarer that I have an actual relapse in front of someone like that. The last time I had once was probably during winter break, when I happened to look at a case involving missing jewelry. But Stacy was the killer in that illusion. This time, it was Dad.

"You okay?" Phil's voice surprised me as much as the arm that wrapped around my shoulder. "Joe's probably beating himself up for trying to invite him over."

"It's not Joe's fault," I said almost immediately. "He didn't know. _I_ didn't know."

"But you know how protective he's grown about it. We all have."

"Dad knows, Phil. I blew any cover that we had pretending not to know the truth. He'll put it together, or think that we'll put it together if we actually didn't know. It-"

"So what, Frank? So he knows, and that doesn't really affect why we came here. We have a mission, just like what you meant this morning. So ignore your dad." By then, we had reached the food that was laid out in metal bins, the line diminishing to almost nothing. (Wow, we must have slept in real late or something…)

"Thanks," I said softly, quickly kissing him. "You're always there on these kind of days."

"And on all those other days too," he teased, grabbing two plates, and handing one over to me.

"…I can't believe they let gays come here." The words were somewhat whispered, but it was still easy to hear them. I casually glanced over to see a couple, both probably in their late twenties. The one who voiced her opinion was the woman, who had clearly finished inspecting me and Phil and now had her sight trained on Callie and Ivy.

The guy next to her sighed. "Jane…"

"Odell, this is serious! That host, Craig or whatever his name is, is trying to contaminate us!"

Ouch. When the fucking hell was being gay a disease?

We turned back to the food, trying to ignore the conversation as much as we can. Usually, I couldn't ignore something like that, but soon the woman got repetitive. _And_ boring.

Phil was the first one to say anything, and that was when we were walking back to the table, out of earshot. "I think that was the bitch that Joe mentioned yesterday."

"Does 'bitch' even describe it?" I asked, not able to help myself. I wondered what Odell saw in that woman…

"What happened to 'everyone's still entitled to their own opinion'?"

"I dunno. Probably threw that out the window," I admitted.

When we sat down, the remainder of Joe's talk with "Greg", girlfriend, Clara, and Roger was coming. "-and if she were still alive, I would probably go after her or something."

"Stacy's dead, Joe." I placed my plate down, taking the remaining chair next to my brother. "And she left me one hell of a goodbye present."

Ivy gave me a look, clearly upset with the way I described the torture that I was left with. "You mean the gift from hell."

"It doesn't matter what you call it. I hate it."

That was the last statement of the conversation. Bruce had taken the mic, and was starting the day with a detailed agenda of everything. Phil and I shared the food we managed to grab; we silently had decided to get food for them, since they were trapped in their conversations. I had specifically gotten my brother his favorite donut, as a way of saying, "It's not your fault."

By the time all the talking was over, I think all of us had fallen back to sleep. Man, that guy can talk a long time. We got up from our seats (Ivy being waken up in the process), and were going to the first event: theme ideas.

That was when Odell started frantically calling out for Jane. He walked over to Joe and asked in a shaking voice, "Have you seen her? She went to the bathroom during the beginning of Bruce's speech, and now I can't find her!"

Joe and I exchanged a look. Within that look, we transmitted two thoughts in that "telepathic brother" kind of way (or so Joe calls it). The first thing was, _She hates gays, and there are four of them right here. Why should we know? _The second was _That speech was thirty minutes long. Did she ditch him? Or…_

It was Ivy, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, who saw the figure. She silently pointed it out to Callie, and Clara decided to look as well. Clara was the one who screamed, her eyes wide in fear.

We turned, and saw Jane, tied to something that was looking down over the balcony. Even from this angle, we could see that she had been violently tortured, with slash marks all over her body. She wasn't clothed either, instantly making me think of rape.

Raped, murdered, and posed over the balcony within thirty minutes. This went beyond what the case was originally supposed to be.


	7. Chapter 7

This one is longer than usual.  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Frank

You could the fear and hear the anger in the silent halls. Everyone had been sent back up to their rooms as the police began to tape off the area and look for any evidence of the killer's identity. Already, the nightmares were coming back.

"_Another_ relapse?" Callie hissed. "Frank, this isn't good! At this rate, all of Stacy's crap is gonna come back and- and-"

A minute after seeing the body, I relapsed into another one of the illusions where someone (or someones, in this case) was out to kill me. This time, it was Dad and a shadowy figure that I couldn't make out. But it seemed familiar somehow…

"What do you think, Ivy?" Vanessa asked quietly. "You know some psychology stuff now…"

"I only have guesses. None of it is the cure to this. The only way to stop them in the immediate future is to abandon the case."

"I can't just leave," I protested. "I'll be fine-"

"No you aren't, Frank," Joe shot back. He was sitting on one of the beds, his gaze concentrated on me. "I mean, dealing with Dad will eventually wear out his scariness. But the shadowy figure? How long will that take?"

"It's the killer," Ivy said. She had pictures laid out in front of her, each one with a different crime scene linked to this case. As she sorted them into two piles, she said, "I think it's your conscience trying to tell you something. You saw someone, and your subconscious knew that he was the killer. The only question is, how?"

"That doesn't make sense." Phil sat next to me, his folded hands propping his head up on the desk we were near. "This didn't happen before."

"That's the issue. Something is different this time." Finishing the last of the sorting, she straightened each pile. "And whoever Frank's subconscious thinks it is has done a quarter of the job for us."

"A quarter?" Vanessa repeated.

Ivy nodded, and Callie explained. "I was thinking about our briefing, and that there were two kinds of murders; bloody and clean. Usually, someone would choose one or another."

"Unless it's an assassin or something like that…" Joe muttered darkly.

"Let's assume it's not an assassin, since ATAC sent us, and didn't go to the FBI instead. That would either give us one murderer who likes broad ways of killing or-"

"Or two killers," Vanessa finished.

"Two killers that happen to be targeting the same people," Ivy repeated softly.

"But what do the people have in common?" I asked. "Why are they being targeted?"

"Let's start with Jane," Phil suggested. "Fresh in our minds and all."

"Couldn't you have said it differently?" Callie mumbled.

"She was raped," Ivy said.

"We don't know for sure," Vanessa protested.

"Yeah we do, Van," Joe said softly. "I overheard some of the police officers when they were herding us back to our rooms. They didn't have the forensics yet, but they were ninety-nine point nine percent sure. Which seems kinda weird, since it's not the kind of place where you would think they would see rape and all."

""Who knows?" I said. "Maybe they transferred. Right now, let's just assume they're right. That means someone was trying to show their dominance, right?"

"Most likely." Callie frowned. "I hate that rape usually equates to power."

"Well, it is. And we have to deal with that little issue." I thought over that detail for a moment. "Joe, you said this woman was what?"

"Um… bitchy, most likely in control of her relationship with her fiancé, homophobic…"

"Sounds like the killer might have had an issue with that…" Phil sighed. "How about the other ones that were bloody? Was there rape involved too?"

"A few cases." Picking up one of the piles, Ivy flipped to the back of the pictures where she had written the details. "Usually with women who were strong and not the type who would stand down."

"That's-" A knock on the door cut off the rest of my sentence. Ivy made the pictures disappear while Joe went to see who it was.

"Oh boy." He glanced at me, and I understood instantly. After a slight nod from me, he hesitantly unlocked the door and opened it up to Dad.

Our dad actually appeared his age. Whatever disguise stuff that he had used was gone for the moment. I noticed that the wedding ring that symbolized his and Mom's marriage was also missing. Even though I had rationalized that he couldn't wear one while undercover at a wedding showcase, it still bothered me.

"Boys," he said, giving each of us a nod as a way to say that he recognized us. He did the same with the others in the room, but it was obvious to see that his attention was on Joe and me.

"Dad," I said in the same tone.

"You look different without a woman probably half your age attached to your arm," Joe said casually, the subtle hints of a smile on his face.

Dad ignored the comment. "You shouldn't be here. This case is too dangerous-"

Shit, was he lecturing us? We had done completely fine before he left, and just as good, if not better, since then. Not to mention that I had a really strong urge to lecture _him_ about leaving his family behind just because one of his kids is gay.

"Too dangerous," Callie repeated. She wasn't attempting to hide her annoyance and anger at all. "You don't know what we've been through, Mr. Hardy. How can you just judge us from seeing us after over a year of being elsewhere?"

It was true. The reason ATAC gave us special training to hone in on certain talents was because some of the missions were become even more dangerous. It took its toll once in a while, but that was evened out with more time between missions to rest.

"It doesn't matter how much experience that you've gained. There are some missions you shouldn't take." Dad didn't look at Callie at all. Instead, he was staring at me as if I was the one who just told him.

"And sometimes you have to face your fears," I answered back, trying to keep my voice even and neutral. It was true, wasn't it?

"This is not any kind of place to do that."

"Who said we were even on a mission?" Ivy said finally. "We just happened to be here because we all have weddings to plan."

Finally, he broke his gaze from me and set it on someone who wasn't his child. "I wouldn't be surprised if ATAC just pushed you on the list-"

"Not true!" Vanessa said. "We've been on the list the second my cousin was allowed to help."

That was partly the truth. Since we had no idea ourselves that we were going to this thing until Van told us the day before, it did feel like a push. But Natasha did put us on the list earlier than ATAC giving us this mission, so it gave us a somewhat solid alibi.

"Do you want us to help, Mr. Hardy?" Phil asked. "Even though we were signed up just to plan our stuff, we'll be happy to help-"

"I'll be fine." With that, he suddenly headed to the door and left.

When the door closed and locked itself, I think we all let out a deep breath. It was then that we all started to point out what seemed wrong during the conversation.

"He seemed preoccupied," Vanessa said. "Did anyone else notice that?"

"A little," Joe said. "It was weird how he was trying to watch Frank. Like Frank would jump up and beat the fucking daylights out of him-"

"He acted as if Frank were a complete stranger," Callie added. "I mean, he did leave for a year and all, but that doesn't make you completely strangers, right?"

"Lots of signs of discomfort. Maybe he did feel like he was a stranger. It could have even been guilt," Ivy said, frowning. "But there was something else-"

"Did anyone else notice that he didn't really react when he found out we were engaged?" Phil's question stopped everyone. Staring at him, I thought over the moment.

"He didn't seem concerned. It was like he already…" I took in a breath before continuing. "It was like he knew what was going on with us."

"Like spying," Callie said softly.

--------------

"Basic question," Joe started, handing me a cup of soda. He had managed to get downstairs to get us food, spying on some cops along the way. We were still stuck in our rooms by midday, and most likely not getting out until the police had finished questioning everyone. It seemed likely that our turn was next.

"Who would tell Dad anything about us if he inquired?"

"Everyone," I answered automatically. "Except maybe Mom, but it's unlikely that she holds a grudge against him like we do."

"How about this: _Why_ would he check in on you two?" Callie asked.

"Maybe he tried to avoid them," Vanessa said. "And somehow, along the way, he found out."

"Or it could be his own guilt." Ivy took one of the sandwiches from the top of the pile. "I have a theory, but it might just be it."

"We never did have enough crazy theories," Joe said, trying to lighten the mood a little. It didn't work.

"I didn't say it was crazy." Pausing, Ivy took a moment to think of how to put the idea into words. "It's a 'love the sinner, hate the sin' kind of idea. He loves you two, but just hates the fact that Frank's gay and that Joe supports it."

"Which brings us to the question of why," Phil said. "I think that's been bothering me for a while. Why does he not like the fact that you're gay?"

I felt everyone's gaze on me even though I was looking at the floor. "I don't know, exactly. He told us once that it was because the change was too fast. But I don't believe it. He was hiding something that day, and I didn't know it then because I wasn't looking for the signs. But now they are the most obvious things in the memory…"

A knock on the door ended the conversation. Joe offered to get it, muttering, "Fucking police and their bad timing…"

"We _are_ helping the police," Ivy pointed out before Joe pulled the door open.

It wasn't a policeman after all. A woman, probably Dad's age, wearing a simple suit, was waiting there. She looked anxious and worried. It didn't fit her at all.

"Are you Fenton's sons?"

How were we supposed to answer that? Dad was "not" here: Greg was. And we had no idea who the hell she was. That wasn't exactly a good thing at the moment.

She probably sensed our discomfort. "I'm Alice Ralph. I went to school with your dad a long time ago." Going into her bag, she pulled out an old picture. "We were in the same classes senior year."

Joe looked at the picture. Quietly, he pulled her inside and closed the door. Alice walked over to me, handing me the old photo. "You look so much like him…" she muttered, studying me.

I looked at the photo. That was Dad, alright. And if the way he slung his arm around her shoulder told me anything, it was that they were more than friends at one point.

Another face close to the foreground got my attention. The familiar face from the hidden photo Joe and I found the night before was smiling, even though he wasn't supposed to be there.

"What do you want with us?" I blurted out, not sure how else to ask.

"You dad's in danger. There's a man who wants to get him." She looked at the others in the room for the first time, then back at me. "Can I trust all of you?"

"Yeah. I'm Frank, by the way." I began to point to each of my friends in turn. "That's Joe, my younger brother. That's Vanessa, Callie, Ivy, and this is Phil."

"What did you mean, Dad's in danger?" Joe asked, taking back his seat on the bed. "Is it someone he got in jail before? Some gang member he busted, or-"

"No. He… Fenton wouldn't put him in jail. But he deserved it. After what he did… and… and…" She suddenly dropped herself onto the edge of the bed and started to cry into her hands.

"Dad let someone off the hook?" I said, trying to make sense of it all. Joe seemed just as surprised, looking at me, then Alice, then me again.

"Do you see the man in the picture? The one that's not trying to hide?"

It was the same man that had caught my attention when I first saw the picture. "Were he and Dad friends?"

"Best friends. Since the second they met… and that was a long time ago. Even before I knew them."

I was about to ask another question, but Joe shot me a look. I nod my head, letting him take control. He was supposed to be the "people's person" anyways.

"Dad never told us about him," Joe started, sitting down next to her.

She still hadn't picked up her head. It was like she was ashamed of something. "I'm not surprised. He cared for Jay a lot, even after… even after…"

I looked at Phil, then Callie and Ivy. We now had a name for an invisible threat. Problem was, what did this guy do to our dad?

"Sounds like Dad cared for this guy a-" Joe never got a chance to finish his sentence. Alice had suddenly burst into a batch of fresh tears, once again hiding her face. We all looked at each other for a brief moment. I was in somewhat shock, I guess you could say. It was like… it was like when you get a few puzzle pieces, but it's not enough to even get an idea of what the picture is supposed to be.

We waited for her to stop, which seemed to taka a bit of time. It made me wonder how bad it was. It must have been years ago… And time usually washes away some pain, doesn't it? What could have been so bad?

And why didn't Dad tell us?

When she finally calmed herself down, she looked each of in the eye. She stared me down the longest. She mumbled, "You look so much like him. I wouldn't be surprised that you turned out to be a womanizer at this age…"

"Womanizer?" I managed to say before Joe burst into a fit of laughter. I shot a look at him, but he didn't notice at all. He did tone down after a second, but I had a feeling he was still close to tears.

"Hardy, stop it," Callie hissed at my brother. "This is no time-"

"That's the first time anyone called him that since he came out, Cal." He took a few deep breaths, and tried to calm down. "I know, wrong timing-"

"You're gay?" Alice's question seemed so sudden. She looked at me, her tears failing to mask the… the fear… her complete and total fear over the fact.

"Yes," I said, not trying to hide the fact. It wasn't something that I was scared of admitting. Of course, the idea that I was scaring off someone who knew some vital information about my father hit me a second too late.

She didn't get up to leave. "Jay was too." Her head hung again when she whispered her next question. We almost didn't hear her. And I wish that I couldn't.

"What does rape mean to you?"

* * *

Story time very soon... *evil laughter*


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for taking so long on this chapter. I was kinda stuck on where I was going, and with studying and being lazy... yeah...

Here's a random story in a *coughfailcough* attempt to humor you as a way to make up for all the crap that will happen in this chapter:  
Created Mii characters for Frank and Joe on the Wii. When we created Joe and he fell from the sky to land in the little place, he got up and did a disco star pose. When Frank fell out of the sky, he just got up and did a bow like a sweet guy. The Wii has somehow either read my mind or read Hardy Boys.

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

I think it was our eyes that said it all. We didn't talk at all, but just stared at the woman. I think we both realized the truth at that moment. Frank looked like he didn't want to admit it. I sure as hell didn't want to.

"Alice, what exactly happened?" Ivy managed to ask. She seemed shaken up, but she must have rationalized it for a bit.

"Jay was always there. They were… Fenton and Jay were best friends. I know it sounds weird, but they always hung out together. Sports, dates… They even planned to partner up when they were able to become PIs…"

"And?" I managed to say, trying to keep my voice leveled.

"I… I thought… He said it was… was a joke…" Her words were caught up it fresh new sobs. "Jay… Jay was upset over something… it was… was stupid… and he said he… he had to get… get back… so… so he asked me to date Fenton… Fenton had a crush on me… back then, probably… probably before your mom… mom even met…"

The word _rape_ flashed through my mind. Dad didn't… he couldn't have… right?

Ivy saw the look on my face. Everyone probably did, actually. But she was the one who managed to continue the conversation, even if it was through half choked words. "He… he didn't…"

"No… no…" Her voice grew softer as more tears came out. "Jay… Jay kidnapped Fenton… supposed to… be one of our dates… I think… I was falling for Fenton… and then Jay took… took him somewhere… and when everything was done… I think… I think Fenton was… Oh God…"

Alice buried her face into her hands, not daring to look up at us. Suddenly, it all just fell into place. This truth seemed just as bad as the idea of Dad raping someone, maybe even worse… How could Jay go through… How could anyone…

Frank was the one who was finally able to say the statement out loud. "Jay raped our dad back then, didn't he?"

The woman nodded a little, and let out a small sob. She was definitely trying not to look up at any of us now.

"I…" It was hard to understand her as she hid her face, but I managed to get some of the words. "I… the bait. Should… better. And… did nothing… stop him. Fenton… days... make it better… screwed up… never blamed Jay…"

"What?" Vanessa said. She was somehow able to understand more than I could from the sobs. "Fenton didn't blame Jay?"

"He… he couldn't…" Alice lifted her head a little, staring at the floor. This time, I could understand what she was saying. "When they arrested Jay… for kidnapping… Fenton looked messed up… said he was just attacked… but I could tell… no one listened… Fenton said he didn't feel like pressing charges…"

Frank looked at Ivy. "Dad didn't press charges and he was _raped-_"

"There're a lot of factors. The police might not have recognized it as a rape because it looked like more of a fight. They weren't as open about gays. They…" Ivy's voice began to choke up, finally breaking away the idea that she could stay level headed in the middle of a crisis. "They were best friends at one point, Frank. I don't know what else to say."

"I do," I muttered. The exact words that I wanted to say were _Jay is a fucking bastard for putting Dad through all that bullshit!_ But I knew when to hold my tongue, and this was one of those times.

Alice suddenly got up, and looked at me straight in my face. "You think this was my fault, don't you?"

"Huh…?" Crap. It showed on my face! "No, I-"

"Liar!" She suddenly was in full rage, her eyes glaring at me. "You blame me just like all the others!"

"Other people know?" Callie asked.

"It doesn't matter! They all blamed me in the end! It wasn't my damn fault!" The last statement stung me a little. "You're a fucking little bastard, aren't you?! Just like your damn father!"

She stormed out of the room, making sure that she slammed the door as she left. Frank, Vanessa, and Ivy all protested, but she acted like she couldn't hear them at all. Frank had checked in the hallways before sighing and shaking his head.

"She's out of sight."

That was the first and last time we ever saw Alice whole.

"What did I do?" I asked, looking at the others. "Was it my face or something?"

"Pure ugliness, yes," Callie instantly responded, her voice missing the usual teasing tone. "But I don't think you actually did anything specifically."

"You cringed a little," Phil said. "I almost didn't catch it, but it was there. I'm going to assume that it was because of something else."

"It was! I was pissed off at the fucking idea that someone could stand to do that to their best friend!"

"Why did she come here?" Frank asked suddenly. "Why did she tell us?"

"Huh? Bro, Alice just told us that our dad was raped. Why the fucking hell would-"

"It makes all the difference. She could have not come, and therefore not tell us something that she obviously has a guilty conscience for!"

"It's true, Joe," Ivy said softly. "She was acting odd. What's the point for coming here if she isn't ready to truly recover?"

"Maybe she wanted to blame someone else," Callie said. From the tone of her voice, she seemed to be siding a bit with me. Then again, I didn't exactly have a position…

"What about Jay? Where is he now?" Phil asked.

Vanessa seemed confused at the question. "Why worry about him? He hurt Mr. Hardy, so why bring back the pain?"

"Because Jay probably wants to come back." Ivy got up to get her laptop that she brought, but Callie beat her to it. Ivy gave a small smile before opening it up and turning it on. She then paused. "Does anyone have any idea what the guy's last name is?"

"Um…"

"I can make a call." Frank pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and let speed dial do the rest. "Hey, Mom?"

"You think Mom knows?" I whispered. I rather not have Mom accidentally hear me and start worrying. She already had to deal with a lot of Dad's shit.

Frank only nodded slightly as he continued to talk. "Hey, I was wondering… Dad left one of his yearbooks at home, right? …no, no, I didn't mean that, Mom… Well, there's some weird guy who keeps insisting that he's one of Dad's old pals… Just wanted to check… His first name is Jay, but he didn't give us a last name… Okay, thanks Mom." He hung up, sighing. "Mom's gonna check, but she didn't really sound happy about it."

"Who ever is? I mean, checking upon a guy who abandoned you…" Callie let the sentence trail off.

That's when Phil's cell phone rang, and he went outside to answer it.

Who knew that it was only the beginning of the long slide downhill for us?

--------------

"No, Frank. I am _not_ going to let you choose for me."

"Yes you are, Phil. I'm not just gonna sit on the sidelines and watch you throw it all away!"

The voices were slowly getting louder. It had been about three hours since Alice had talked to us. The police had already come to talk to each of us about what had happened, and we offered what we could. Well, not the part about Jay or Alice. We weren't sure what was going on as of yet about those two particular people, so we had made a collective decision about it.

Frank and Phil were both distracted at that point. Phil had a weird vibe surrounding him since he got the phone call, and Frank just seemed to absorb some of his fiancé's aura. After the police had left, Callie, Ivy, Vanessa, and I went to walk around the place. We weren't allowed to leave any time soon due to the police investigation, but walking around this place was better than nothing.

And we came back to find them arguing.

"Frank, I told you that I _knew_ that this was coming."

"And I told _you_ that it'll be better-"

"Better for who?!"

"Better for you! Believe me, I would know!"

"Well, I'm not you!"

"What's going on?" Callie practically shouted, but in the end kept the same volume as their voices.

Apparently, neither of them had noticed that we were right at the doorway. Suddenly, the angry stares were directed to the floor.

"It's nothing," Frank mumbled.

"It _is_ something," Phil countered. He picked up his head. "I'm leaving. And I'm doing exactly what I told you I'll do. And you better accept it."

"It's your life." I almost didn't hear Frank say this. It was surprising that instead of anger lacing his voice, he had sadness. "But it'll be better-"

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Phil grabbed his suitcase from the bed. It looked like he had packed up his stuff already. "I'm going." He slipped past the rest of us, not making any eye contact as he left.

"How the fucking hell does he expect to get past the police?" Callie mumbled.

"It's already been cleared by his parents. And they'll call him back when he's needed," Frank mumbled. Suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, letting tears to come out of his eyes. There were no other noises; Frank didn't know that I knew, but I knew that he had perfected the art of silently crying.

"What happened?" Ivy asked softly, walking slowly towards my brother.

"That scholarship… Goddammit. Why… why the fucking hell did they base it on his fucking dreams?"

"'Them'? I don't… No…" Ivy's hand shot up to her mouth and her eyes widened. "They…"

"What?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"Phil's parents were being pressured by the rest of their families to disown Phil because he's gay," Ivy muttered. "I… he mentioned it once… but… they couldn't-"

Frank's sudden laughter startled us. He tossed his head back, and was staring straight up at the ceiling, tears still streaming down his face. "They fucking lied. They said if Phil got the scholarship to study in Britain, then they would have enough distance to deal with it. They thought it was fucking brilliant that if he left, then that would be the end of their pretty family. Who knows what the fucking hell they would've chosen if he didn't." He looked back at the floor, shaking his head. "But Phil's brilliant. What school doesn't want him?"

It seemed to me that Frank was going hysterical. I barely understood what he was saying. "Frank, are you okay?"

"Why the hell didn't he listen?" he muttered, ignoring my question. "If he just leave me, then he'll have his family…"

"Wait. You were telling him to _leave _you?" Vanessa asked.

"He would have his family-"

My anger suddenly bubbled over. My fist had already left its mark on his face before I realized what I had done. My strength had been pulled back, but there was still flaming red skin at the area where I punched him.

"What the fuck it wrong with you? You're throwing away the best fucking thing in your life-"

"As long as I'm out of the question, he'll be happy with his family-"

"But he chose you, didn't he? He fucking chose you over his fucking family-"

"He should give a fuck about his family!"

"No he fucking shouldn't! Look what happened to our family-" I stopped mid sentence.

"Our family indeed." Frank suddenly got up from the floor, pushed me aside, and headed for the door.

That was the last sentence I ever heard my brother say. It was, in fact, the last time he would ever speak to anyone.

Ivy tried to follow, but I held her back.

"Let the fucking bastard deal with it himself."

"But-" She saw the look in my eye, and stopped. There must have been something there that told her to back out of our family issues. It probably stung.

If it did stung, it might have burned and almost killed her once we found out what happened.

* * *

If you think I'm being mean to Frank, wait until next chapter. (Adding more foreshadows to the ones Joe mentioned).


	9. Chapter 9

Trying to make up for things by finishing this soon. Hopefully.

**Please read this before going on with the chapter.** There is mention of rape. Not graphic, but still there.

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Frank

I stumbled over to where the staircase was, hidden away behind a door at the edge of the building. It was a bit cruder than the rest of the hotel, but it was okay. That meant that people weren't coming around here anytime soon. Any sounds made in here echoed anyways, so at least I would have some kind of head start if someone came along.

I sat down on the concrete steps, propping my elbows on my legs. I hung my head, trying to bury my face in my hands. How the hell did my life suddenly screw me over without warning me? Then again, maybe it did with all of the recent things that happened… Maybe I was just a little too blind to see them.

I hated telling Phil to leave me. I honestly would rather have Phil by my side. I wanted to be selfish.

But look what happened to the good old Hardy family. Our parents are practically divorced (and somehow I had a feeling that, ever since I saw Dad with the woman, the divorce papers were coming). Dad was obviously hiding something because of his supposed best friend raping him. I'm guessing that in the act of bottling it up, he released all of that pressure on us.

The gears in my head started to turn. Were people more homophobic during that time than now? So maybe… maybe Jay didn't get support or any help. And then… then he developed a crush on my dad. And Jay thought that the only way to get to my dad was to rape him. And then…

I still couldn't feel any pity for the guy. From the very small amount of information I knew, it sounded as if Jay never apologized. Not that it would have helped much or anything, but it could have changed something now…

That was when I heard a gun being cocked behind my head.

"Don't turn around just yet." The man sounded to be in the middle ages of his life. He wasn't even bothering to try and hide his voice. It wasn't too deep, but just enough to make an image of a bodybuilder come to mind.

The worse part was, it sounded as if the man was enjoying it.

"Alice came to see you, didn't she?"

I decided not to answer that particular question. Somehow, I already had a feeling that the guy behind me was the one who ruined my Dad's life.

"It doesn't matter if you answer or not. I already took care of her." He bellowed out a laugh that seemed to fill the staircase. It made me hope briefly that someone would have heard. That was before I remembered that barely anyone uses the stairs nowadays.

He continued on. "Stupid bitch thinks that she can 'redeem herself.' Ha. Fenton couldn't stand to see the sight of her after all of these years. So she went to the next best thing: Fenton's little children. Obviously, he doesn't like talking to you."

"By the way, I'm Jay. The one and only." Suddenly, the barrel of the gun connected to the back of my head, slamming it sideways. "And do me a favor and don't talk, kid. You already piss me off as it is."

I was very tempted to ask what the fucking hell I did, but I managed to keep my mouth close. I needed to find out more. Maybe an opening will come up. Maybe someone would save me-

Jay was kind enough to answer the unasked question for me. "You were never supposed to be born. You look too much like your old man, you know that? You're brother's fine, but you… you should never have been born."

It took me a moment to digest his words. Joe did take a lot of his noticeable features from Mom. And I was usually compared to my Dad. But why-

It all fell into place.

I was never supposed to be born because Dad was never supposed to have met Mom. In Jay's twisted mind, Dad should have stayed with him. Joe could get away with it since he looked like Mom, and maybe this asshole went so far to think that he didn't have to worry about Mom since it seemed pretty obvious that Dad stopped caring about her. But I was the symbol of the marriage that worked back then. The time that Jay lost to Mom because he was locked away or something.

I was the one he wanted to kill.

"Alice is already dead. I saw to that," Jay continued. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me at this point. "She should have just kept her fucking trap shut. It doesn't concern her anymore, so why the fucking hell did she try to jump in?"

He suddenly pushed me to the floor. Trying to get up, I got my first good look at him. His voice did reflect his body structure: some muscles, but not steroid level. The gun was still aimed at me, and from the looks of his steady hand, he was used to killing people this way.

In his other hand was a bottle of liquid. He leaned down and thrust the bottle into my hands. "Drink it. Or else your pretty little brother and mother will be full of holes. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

I must have had some kind of look on my face, because Jay added, "Don't worry. If you're a good little boy, then they live. Got it?"

I nodded slowly. Suddenly, my life felt worthless. Theirs were more important. This creep might go after them. I had to buy them time so they can figure it out.

The label was still on the bottle. I couldn't help myself but read it. When I realized what it was, my eyes widened. He was planning to torture me and-

"Drink it, kid. My patience is running thin."

I slowly opened the bottle, looking at the innocent seeming liquid swirling around inside. I don't know if I was crying at this point, but I didn't care. I drank it all in one gulp.

"What a good little boy. Not like Fenton when I told him what to do."

Now I knew there were tears stinging in my eyes. I wanted to curse the bastard out, punch his face-

But something inside of me had died. I had lost all my hope in keeping myself alive.

Jay suddenly pushed me back down to the floor. His hands easily wrapped around my throat. "You know, I haven't fucked anyone in years. And you look so much like Fenton…" His eyes started to fill themselves with a mixture of lust and sadistic joy.

And I couldn't scream at all.

------------

The memories stung as Jay shoved me through the doorway of Mom's van. I tried to think of Phil, the way he made love to me, _anything._ But Jay had forced himself into my mind. All I could think of was his hands, his breath, his muscles… all of them killing me slowly.

They say the mind tries to help at times like these. Mine blocked everything out after the third time the man decided that raping me was the best idea he had in a long time.

I wanted Phil's touch so badly. The pain he gave wasn't on purpose. His was full of love.

Jay had raped me over and over. And no one came. The stairway was apparently to obscure and out of the way and crappy looking that _no one gave a fucking damn about what was going on while I was trapped in a nightmare that was going to kill me-_

"Listen, kid. The second you touch the gas peddle, the timer starts. The second the gas pedal is released, the bomb will go off. And you're going to drive away like a good little boy and die somewhere on the road. Got it?"

My whole body felt numb as my head nodded. _Stay a good little boy for Joe's sake. Buy him some time. He'll figure it out. He can be the hero and save everyone._

"Go."

The keys were already in the ignition. When did he get them? Did he take them the first day, and we just didn't realize?

Slowly, I allowed myself to push on the gas.

The night sky suddenly hit me. It was a sick way of the world to remind me how long this man raped me. I couldn't remember it, tried not to remember it, but the world wanted to laugh at my pain.

The police weren't really paying attention to the back entrance. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. I couldn't get others hurt. I wasn't able to scream for help. So, I just made the car disappear. Someone would have to find my body later.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim world. The first thing I could really focus on without having the tears blur my vision was a text book. I recognized it as one of Phil's. It wasn't too far out of reach, and I managed to pick it up without having the bomb go off.

It wasn't Phil. It wasn't a big miracle.

But it was a small one that I was grateful for. Sometimes, when it comes right down to it, you have to be thankful for the small things.

Slowly, I lifted my foot off the gas pedal. And I continued to cried.

* * *

Needless to say... this is the last chapter from Frank's POV.

Also, please do not ask why Frank cannot scream. If anyone had watched the Hell Girl episode called "Cracked Mask" then... I just spoiled it. For those who haven't, it will be explained in the story sooner or later (probably later...).


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter sounds more like Frank's POV than Joe's, when I think about it. Maybe it's because I feel bad about what I did to Frank... I cou;d have done worse, but then again, I could have done a whole lot better. *hugs Frank*

And as another note, the latest UB book says that Frank is good with foreign languages. I so called it! (Not really, but I like to imagine that I did.)

I still do not own the Hardy Boys, but I'm starting to get a decent collection of their books...  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

If I had to pinpoint the exact moment where my life fell apart, it was at the very late dinner.

Frank still hadn't returned from wherever he went off to. I was starting to feel guilty for punching him. But at the same time, I didn't. It was my crude way of telling him that sometimes, families just plain suck. He has to realize that families aren't everything. Sure, you can say you got your roots from their and all. But they shouldn't rule your life.

Ivy hadn't said a single word since Frank disappeared. That rubbed off on Callie, who kept sending me murderous glances whenever she got the chance. And Van…

Well, Van just did her own disappearing act.

She told us she went to talk to her cousin. But there was something that struck me as odd… I don't know why, either. Usually, it was Ivy who pointed out these kinds of things.

Anyways, we were in the ballroom place where we originally supposed to be for the whole day for the wedding showcase. The police still had the area roped off where Jane's body was found, but cleaned it up so there wouldn't be a corpse looking down at us.

And speak of the devil…

Odell came walking to the table where Ivy, Callie, and I were. He stopped right in front of me, and said in a loud voice, "You killed Jane!"

"What?!" So I didn't like the woman that much. But how the fucking hell did that equate to me being the killer? Hell, she probably pissed off everyone in this place, so why single out me?

"She insulted your brother, and you went and-"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up." At this point, I realized other people were watching us. Including the police. "She insulted my brother. So what? He gets insulted every freakin' day of his life because not everyone in this world accepts him. And he would probably kill me first because he would rather not harm a person. He doesn't care, and he has taught me not to."

Okay, some of that wasn't exactly true. Frank was affected by what people say. He can't help it. But most of the time, he ignores it.

And Frank can't even touch me, let alone kill me. I'm the muscles of this operation.

Odell's face seemed to drop a bit. Maybe he realized what he just accused me of.

"You lying son of a bitch."

Then again, maybe he was just preparing to try and beat the living crap out of me.

I blocked and dodged most of his punches. He was hard to read, since he had let his anger take over and was just throwing punches for the purpose of throwing punches. But he was also a bit slow, so it was to my advantage.

I had blocked what was probably the twentieth or so punch when the police managed to pull him away.

One of the cops looked at me with a questioning sort of look. "What's going on?"

"His fiancée insulted my brother yesterday because my brother's gay. He thinks that I would kill her over it," I explained, watching as the police tried to get Odell to calm down.

"Are you going to press charges?"

"No," I said without thought. "He's stressed. It's not his fault."

Somehow, it seemed as if I just made the guy angrier. He tried to shake off of the policemen, but failed.

Another policeman came up to the table. "Joe Hardy?"

"Yes?" I wasn't really surprised the guy knew my name. Frank and I made ourselves a bit of a reputation, and even if he didn't know us or Dad, he could have found out ours names from his investigation (like we would kill people, but they wouldn't know about our connections about ATAC).

"Come with me. And your friends, too." He gestured to Callie and Ivy, who had watched everything that went down in complete silence. "We found something that involves you."

-----------

My eyes didn't leave the television screen. They refused to.

The cop, who had introduced himself as Sergeant Craig, began to talk for the first time since he led us into the room to watch the security tapes. "That man killed the cops on duty, including the ones that were supposed to be watching the security cameras. All twenty had been shot right before he went after your brother."

"How long?" I barely managed to speak the words.

"What do you-"

"How long has Frank been missing?" I didn't hide my anger, my bitterness, or my fear when I spoke. Where was Frank? Where was my brother?

"Well, we know that the man-"

"His name is Jay," Ivy piped up. "He was involved with something pertaining to us, and has already… already hurt Joe's father in the past. We don't know his last name, but we believe he was in jail once."

The sergeant nodded. "We should have an easier time tracking him down on the databases, now that we have part of the name."

"My brother?" I repeated, trying to calm myself down.

"Jay made contact with Frank around what we believe to be about two o'clock. We haven't been able to figure out what happened between that time and about an hour ago-"

"What happened an hour ago?"

"The man, Jay, used a gun to get your brother into a car, and Frank drove off. It seemed as if Frank was scared in the video, but we can't be-"

"How come you didn't realize that the officers were dead?" Ivy asked. She was clutching Callie's hand, and her eyes looked scared. Otherwise, she appeared to have a calm look.

"All of them were working the same shift, so they all were killed at the same time so it would take longer to raise the alarm. The bodies were also hidden very well."

_Frank'll escape. Good old Frank wouldn't let this fuckin' asshole get to him. He would-_

"Sergeant Craig!" A younger officer came rushing in. "We found the car!"

A sudden wave of relief ran through me, but sudden changed when I heard the next few words.

"It exploded on the roadside!"

--------------

_It's all my fault._

"Joe, you need to eat." Ivy placed a plate full of food on the desk in our room. Callie was pacing up and down in the limited space, probably trying to hold back tears. I had let mine loose the second I found out.

"Ivy, Frank is dead. He is fuckin'-"

"Don't act like I don't know it!" she hissed back. "But you didn't hear the audio-"

"What audio?" Callie asked, finally stopping her constant pacing.

"I managed to listen to the audio they didn't let us hear on the tape. They didn't want to play it in front of you." Her gaze suddenly shifted away from me. "Jay… Jay threatened to kill you and your mom if Frank didn't do what he said. And… and…" Tears began to form in her eyes.

"What? What did Jay do?" I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"Get off, Hardy." Callie suddenly pushed me away. I wanted to punch her, wanted to strangle her by the throat. I had to know. I have to find out-

"…raped Frank."

And suddenly, I felt like throwing up.

I almost did, but the loud knocking at the door managed to drag my attention away from the horrible thought for a moment, which was long enough. Then the handle turned and opened the door. Vanessa entered the room, with Dad (still in disguise) in tow.

"I heard they found the car." The first words out of my father's mouth made me want to punch him. I wanted to hurt him so badly. Jay was his demon, right? So why did the fucking bastard decide that he had to hurt Frank?

And why wasn't Dad sad like me?

"If you just listened and-"

"So it's our fucking fault?" I hissed. Dad flinched a little, but still tried to play it cool as a way of showing me up. But I won't let him win this time. "You know, Frank cared more about you than you fucking deserved! He cried after you left, every fucking night. And here you are, trying to tell me that _it's our fault because we wanted to-"_

Through the open doorway, I saw the first of my many illusions. I knew that I was going to suffer somehow because Frank was gone, but it was too soon… But I didn't care. I didn't care if I was delusional, or that they were gonna lock me away…

I had to talk to the illusion. I have to tell the ghost I'm sorry for failing to help him. That I was sorry…

I rushed past my father and through the door, frantically looking down both sides of the hallway. But there was nothing there to greet me. It was a confirmation that I was already starting to lose it.

The screams pulled me out of my wonderings.

My mind put it together faster than I realized. My legs were running to the ball room, which was on the same floor. I could begin to hear the faint murmurs, and something told me that I wouldn't like any of this at all.

Clara was the one who rushed up to me, her words seeming to run into each other. "…ate…happy…and then… fainted…"

"Who?" I asked, trying to look over the crowd.

"A couple. Jerold and Betsy, I think-"

"What happened?" Callie ran up next to me, looking around the ballroom.

"They were eating… and they were so happy… and then they just collapsed! The EMTs are trying… but…"

"Poison," Callie mumbled. "But how can it work so fast?"

"I don't wanna know." I was about to say more, but something caught my eye. My instincts kicked in, and I followed my dad, who was running out the door.

Was he chasing someone? It took me a moment to let my eyes adjust tot the darkness. I saw a figure donned in black running towards wheat seemed like an old pick-up truck, already turned on and ready to go.

The figure got in, and suddenly brought the wheels to life. The truck swerved in the parking lot, and somehow I knew that it would get away. It wasn't like I had much of a shot catching it by just running, anyways…

It swung back, and in the brief moment I saw who was behind the wheel.

Jay.

The man suddenly turned, and headed straight towards Dad. He didn't really realize what was happening until it was too late. Jay had grabbed him through the open door, tossed him into shotgun, held a gun against his face, and drove off into the night.

The man had managed to destroy my family in mere hours.

* * *

*gives Joe a hug* And I hope everyone hasn't grown to attached to Vanessa... *foreshadowing*


	11. Chapter 11

A year ago, on this day, I started "Secret Killer". If I could go back in time, I would tell myself... WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE GETTING INTO? And, by the way, you'll end up being a major bitch and kill/torture the characters. A lot. (Not to say that I dislike this story at all. I just didn't expect myself to drag it to this point.)

Anyways... There is a new POV in this chapter, because I can't deal with Joe all by himself. At least with Frank, there was a nice level of intelligence that wasn't constantly mixed with celebrities and/or comments on girls. Sorry, Joe.

I still do not own the Hardy Boys. (But I'm a fan who has a bunch of books, so that has to mean something... I hope...)  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

I repeated myself slowly. "I think I am seeing things."

Ivy didn't stop staring at me. "You don't know for sure-"

"I saw Frank, Ivy. Frank is _fucking dead!_ I… I…" I collapsed onto the bed, not sure what else I was supposed to say.

Was it wrong of me to care more about the fact that Frank's ghost is haunting me than the fact that my father has been kidnapped? Was I caring more about the dead than I should have, and ignoring the living?

"Whoever poisoned the couple was someone different than Jay," Callie muttered. She had taken up pacing around the room again, and was focused on the other killer.

_What about Frank, Callie? Why aren't you worrying about him?_

I couldn't help myself. I knew that we were sent here for a mission, but I couldn't focus on it. Jay had decided to swoop in, kill Frank, kidnap Dad (not that I was really paying attention to that fact, as much as I hate to admit it), and I wasn't about to let that bastard get away.

"Ivy, can I talk to him? Alone?" It was the first time Vanessa had spoken all night. Ivy seemed as startled as I was, but quickly nodded her consent. Silently, she grabbed one of the keys to the room, took Callie gently by the wrist, and led them out to the hallway.

"Van, are you-" I started to ask, but she cut me off with a question of her own.

"If you had to choose between Frank and me, who would you chose?"

"What?!" The question threw me off balance. Why was she asking it, especially now of all times?

"You don't understand what you've put me through, have you?" She stared at the ground. "Do you know how many dates you've canceled because of your missions? How many times I had to lie for you?"

"Van, what are-"

"I'm tired of this! You always choose that other thing! ATAC, Frank, whatever! It's never me!"

"Van, I-"

"I'm leaving, Joe Hardy! And take back your stupid ring! I never liked the style, anyways!" She flung the piece of metal at me, trying to aim for my head. For the first time this whole night, I got lucky. It missed me by an inch.

Her suitcase (which, I had noticed earlier, seemed to be packed) was whisked from the side of the couch. She left saying anything else to me.

I laid back on the bed, wondering if my life could become any more of a hell with the few hours remaining. Give it a moment, and something will probably fall out of the sky, land on our hotel room, and kill me instantly if I'm lucky.

By the time I willingly opened my eyes, Callie and Ivy had already snuck back in. They were both looking at me as if they knew what had happened.

Callie was the first one to speak. "We have to finish the case. Now."

They weren't comforting words at all. But it helped me calm down a little. "Right, case," I managed to mumble back.

"Ivy and I think we should split up the missions," she continued. "We have to do the original mission, and we have to go after Jay. And fast."

"We have a few days-"

"ATAC might pull us out," Ivy said softly. "They think that it'll be better for us if we left-"

"They don't understand! I have to-"

"That's why we have to be quick."

"Listen, this asshole who has the issue with you dad obviously has more mental issues than our other murderer. Ivy's gonna help you. I'll deal with the other one," Callie said. She added, with some confidence, "I think I can handle it by myself."

"But-" I couldn't think of anything else to say. I wanted it to be a team effort on both sides. But it was becoming impossible. We had to hurry now. "Thank you."

"Go to sleep, Joe." Ivy headed over to her bag, and pulled out her laptop. "You're gonna need it."

"Yeah." Hopefully, it would all work out.

-------------

~Callie

I slipped out of the room after I was sure that Joe would be okay. I trusted Ivy, but I couldn't help but worry. Big, muscular Joe versus my poor little Ivy? I couldn't help myself.

No one noticed Joe's drop of mood that went well beyond caring for a stranger. No one knew that "Greg" was really "Daddy" yet. I'm guessing that they realized something was wrong, but with frank and Phil both missing, it seemed that everyone had developed their own answer.

The police were going over the security tapes, and allowed everyone to walk around the place as long as they didn't leave. I guess that most people headed to the restaurant/bar, since dinner wasn't all that… pleasant.

Speaking of which, we never got a chance to eat dinner.

_I might as well get some food for us._ I headed towards the area, which didn't seemed to be as crowded as I anticipated. I decided to wait by the bar, and might as well get myself some soda.

"Hey, I've seen you before." The statement was followed by a _pop!_ A girl behind the counter, probably around my age, commented. Her hair had been dyed back with crimson streaks (but I could see the roots, which were a caramel brown). She was wear clothes that matched: red and black punkish goth gear.

"Well, that makes one of us." Her features looked familiar, but I'm pretty sure that I never met her before.

"Good." In response to my startled look, she added, "I don't like the publicity my dad always has around him. I'm Marisa Craig."

"Craig? You mean as in Bruce Craig's daughter, or Sergeant Craig's?"

"Sergeant Craig is my uncle. And Bruce Craig is my dad." She made a face. "So much fun with those two always hovering over my shoulder."

"Oh." I didn't really know what else to say. Unlike the Hardys, I wasn't the best improviser at akward moments like these.

Luckily for me, Marisa wanted to talk. "You're a lesbian, right?"

"Sure. That's what everyone else calls me." I've only fallen for Ivy (and Frank, but that was before I found that he was gay), so I guess that I was either a lesbian or at least, bi.

"That's cool. You and your gay friends are the only gay here."

"Is that… unusual?"

She smiled one of those kind of smiles that seemed to be laughing at someone else. "Dad doesn't like gays that much. He got pissed off when my mom left for another man, but blew up when I said I was bi."

"Um… oh." Well, this was turning out to be an interesting case already.

"Yeah, fun." She looked around the bar, before asking, "You want something? I'm working here part time until June."

"Really? That long?" I leaned over the counter and helped myself to a menu.

"First and only time Dad wanted me to 'reaccquaint' myself with the family. Maybe deal with guys and at least stay straight."

"That sucks." I shook my head. "My parents understood, after a long time of talking and explaining."

"Me? Talking to him? Ha!" She shook her head in laughter. "He won't listen to a single fucking word. When my parents got divorced, all he cared about from me was that I was in his custody longer than hers!"

Divorce battles are one of the messiest things to grace Earth, in my opinion. "So, do you see your mom at all?"

"In the summer." She shook her head. "Sorry. It's just… no one listens to me."

"No one ever listens to the younger generations." I finally opened the menu and located something that I was pretty sure each of us would want, and ordered. "I'll bring it to the room, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, no problem." She disappeared to the kitchen, just as Gail left the kitchen. He spoted me and walked over from behind the counter.

"Hey." He didn't say much, and I wasn't surprised. He might have heard about some of the things that involved at least one of the people in our room.

My mind suddenly flashed back to Frank. How much did he suffer? What did he think seconds before his death?

It took me a moment to realize that Gail had suddenly turned around and left while I was thinking. Something fell to the floor, almost landing in a puddle of water.

"Gail! You dropped something."

"Huh?" He looked over, and spoted the sealed envelope. "Oh, I was wondering where it went." He picked it up, and stuffed it into the pocket of his apron. "Can't lose this just yet. Thanks."

He left for the kitchen, about the same time Marisa came back. She handed me a bag with all the food in it, smiling. "Here. On the house."

"Oh. Uh, thanks." _I think._

"Yeah, no problem. Hit me up if you need something. No point in helping the old man get any richer." She left to help someone else before I could say anything else.

_So Bruce pisses her off, and in order to piss off him in return, she gives away free food to lesbians._ Well, that was certainly interesting. I wonder how far she would go in order to piss off her father. Maybe a few dead people lying around would be enough.

Then again, how far will someone go to take revenge against someone? Just look what happened to-

_Wait, no._ It couldn't be. No way in hell-

But it could be. There was always a chance.

I walked towards the glass fire exit doors, watching the figure. Why was he here? Why was he haunting us…?

The second I pushed open the door, he bolted.

It took all of my self restriant not to call out into the night sky. I wanted to so badly. I bolted up my feelings, and now he was back to haunt me. Did he blame me? Was he angry?

I kept quiet as I closed the door, pickung up the food I had placed on the floor without even realizing it. I couldn't call out. Nothing would have worked.

Ghosts don't like to answer, after all.

* * *

No more Vanessa for now. *shakes head* Communication is important, boys and girls. That's probably why the world is the way it is: it lacks communication.

And, in other news, ghosts are fun to work with. Anyone who read "Games of Cursed Chance" would know how I am with these beings. *smiles innocently*


	12. Chapter 12

*checks for random miracle* Nope. I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

I don't remember falling asleep. I was too caught up in the fact that my brother was dead, my fiancée left me, and that my dad was kidnapped (in that order).

I honestly couldn't give much of a damn about my father at that point. He had pushed so far away and brought so much pain. Why couldn't he have explained? Why didn't he at least sit down and tell us everything? I feel like he owes us at least that much.

_What are you thinking about, Dad? Are you thinking about us at all? Do you even bother wondering about your two sons?_

Ivy didn't have to force me out of bed. In fact, I was ready to go after Jay before she even woke up.

She wasn't much of a morning person, but maybe the adrenaline kicked in or something when she saw me. "Okay. Wow. Mad early."

"Here." I handed her a plate of food I got from the morning buffet, and focused back on the laptop. Yesterday, Ivy had pulled out all the information she could about Dad's high school life. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give us a last name. Jay Ruben.

"I ran it through the database," Ivy said, before taking a bit of muffin. "They were supposed to send the stuff today."

"When today? We don't have-" The sound and sudden pop up at the lower right hand corner told us that the email with the information had just been received.

Ivy managed to get out of bed, walk over, and take the laptop before I could do anything. "You're too stressed. Let me read it first."

"It's _my_ personal issue. I-"

"Exactly. You're too focused and stressed. Your thinking process is clouded. Calm down and think."

_Think. Think about what? How this asshole had ruined my life within twenty-four hours and how I planned to give him hell? How-_

Maybe she was right. Maybe I was becoming too focused on revenge.

But they trusted me enough, right? They could have just told me to deal with the other killer instead. But I was allowed to work with Ivy to find this bastard. That had to mean something.

Ivy's face paled when she read the email. "They're trying to pull us off the case now."

"What?"

"They're worried. They think that we'll think irrationally because of…" She let the sentence trail off.

"Did they send anything?"

"They mentioned that Jay is beyond dangerous, and that we shouldn't be on this case."

"Anything that's new?"

"Nope. Good thing I sent someone else the email." She typed away quickly, watching the things flash by on the screen. "Here. Vijay pulled through."

"You bothered Vijay?" I was grateful that the kid finally got promoted to a field agent. He had shown his skills one too many times for ATAC to keep him just as a techie. We compensated for the lost of his support with a combination of Phil and Vanessa. But both were not here now…

Phil. I hadn't thought about him since I found out what happened to Frank. I wondered if he found out. Does he feel bad? Or did he just got as upset as I did at my father, and decided to ignore the fact for now?

"Yeah, I did. ATAC might have promoted him, but he kept his skills. I told him that we need the stuff ASAP, so hopefully he'll pull-" The sound of an email alert interrupted her. "Speak of the devil."

"Well?" I asked, a little too rushed.

"Let me open the email, Joe." She made a few clicks, and read through the text. "Well, this casts a whole new light on things."

"What? Jay is _justified-_ or-"

"On your dad. Calm. Down."

"Right." I took a deep breath, as if that would help at all.

"Jay was released from jail last year during April."

"And-"

"Shut up and think for a second. Please. Your dad made the big decision to leave you all alone during the moment Jay was released. Maybe he had an idea that this would happen."

"Are you telling me-"

"Yes. There is a possibility that your dad left just to protect you."

"Bullshit."

"I don't want to believe it, either." She closed the laptop. "But it's a possibility. Or, at least, part of the reason."

"Then what's the other part?"

"Fear of facing the truth."

"The truth," I repeated. "What's the truth nowadays?"

"Whatever we want to believe in." Ivy got up, and walked towards the closet. "Let me change, and look into the town near this place."

"You think Jay is hiding out there?"

"Maybe. But even if he was hiding in the woods, he needs to get supplies eventually."

"And if Jay went million of miles away?"

"He wants to kill you, Joe. ATAC sent people to protect your mom, so we don't have to worry about her right now. The bastard might have already gotten to Frank, but in order to wipe out your dad's entire past with his marriage, he has to kill you."

--------------

~Callie

I got up before the other two. I left Ivy a note and headed out.

First thing I did after getting breakfast was try and find Marisa. She was the only suspect that I had that had a possible motive. And even if she didn't do it, she was probably my ticket to behind the scenes.

Lucky me, she seemed to want to become my best friend all in an act of defiance against her father. Normally, I wouldn't try to get any closer to her and let someone else who had more patience deal with it. But, it was somewhat of an emergency at this point, so I went with her.

"The kitchens? Sure. The cooks and bakers and all are still planning to show off their food during this whole mess." She led me to a doorway generally hidden from most of the ballroom. "I can't believe that three people died yesterday. It's so weird…"

I was tempted to say it was actually four people, but stopped myself just in time. Frank's death must not have…

I couldn't think about him again. Not now. I have a job. I don't have time to grieve. And I certainly don't have time to…

What was that thing yesterday, anyways? A ghost? My imagination? Or…

"Hey, Christopher!" Marisa called out, looking over at the area where dozens of wedding cakes were sitting. Believe me when I say that seeing pictures of crazy wedding cakes can't even compare to seeing one for real, much less a dozen or so. Tanner had his crazy orders to fill, but this just seemed insane.

"Interested in the cake designs, miss?" The man who was walking towards us was middle aged, starting to grey, and smiling. He wiped his hands on the cloth hanging off from the string that kept his apron in place, where an assortment of colors joined together.

"Callie, this is Christopher Deck. Chris, this is my new friend, Callie."

"Hi." We didn't bother shaking hands: it was obvious that the icing wasn't going to completely get off of his hands any time soon.

"May I take a wild guess and say that you are a lesbian?" Chris didn't show too much embarrassment from the question, and I didn't show any embarrassment in response.

"Yeah."

"Ah. So you are the girl Marisa has been talking about!"

I'm going to take my own wild guess and say that Marisa wanted to become my "friend" (if I could even use the word at this point) either because she wanted to piss off her old man or actually wanted some support for her own love issues. Honestly, I was thinking it was the first option.

"I guess I am." I looked around the kitchen. "So, this is where the magic begins?"

"Pretty much. Although we're usually used to a bigger area devoted solely for our masterpieces, we make do with what we have."

"Where are the master kitchens, anyways?" I asked.

"New York City, but we tend to move about the country for our clients."

_So, they have to be pretty good if they go around the country decorating cakes,_ I thought to myself. Bruce Craig must have some nice connections.

"The problem we tend to have with that is that we must constantly move our supplies so we can make the decorations fresh. We tried to ship out the cakes before, but it seemed to bring in a lot of stress. So, when we can, we like to move about and deliver the cakes ourselves."

"Sounds cool." There was a lot of stuff laid out on all of the counters, barely enough room to properly decorate a cake, in my opinion. Then again, I wasn't a professional.

"Hey, Callie!" Gail was mixing his own colors into a tub of white icing, over near a corner that I didn't see before. The envelope was sticking out of his back pocket. "Chris torturing you yet?"

"Now, now Gail. Just because you dislike my speeches doesn't mean that other people wouldn't want to hear them." Chris laughed while shaking his head before turning to me. "So, I'm guessing that you already met out prodigy."

"Prodigy?" Now that was something new. "You never mentioned that, Gail!"

"Well…"

"He's shy," Chris said with another laugh.

"Gail, you didn't tell me you knew Callie!" Marisa said. She seemed to have dropped whatever "tough girl" attitude she had when she was surrounded by friends (not that I saw much of that side at all).

"Well-" Whatever Gail was going to say was cut off when Bruce Craig came storming into the kitchen.

"This fiasco has done too much damage!" he was muttering to himself. It took him a few seconds to realize that there were four other people in the room. "Marisa, what are you doing here?"

Almost instantly, Marisa put up her cold, distant, anti-social shields. "Just showing my friend around," she responded in a question-me-I-dare-you kind of way.

The guy looked at me for a whole two seconds, before looking back at his daughter. "I don't care what you do, just stay out of the way! There's still a showcase to go on!"

It seemed that the anti-social aura suddenly turned into a rage one. "People are _idead./i_ There is little to no chance that this thing will go on like normal anytime soon. And that's if anyone would want to stay for this shitty thing anyways!"

"Marisa Jasmine-"

"You don't care! All you want to do is prove that the only reason your marriage didn't work was because you hated the stupid wedding!"

So Bruce blames his failed marriage on the _iwedding?/i_ That was stupid beyond belief from my point of view. Not to mention the whole set of problems that spilled into the open.

"OUT! OUT!" Bruce yelled at the two of us, literally going over and pushing us out of the kitchen. Marisa acted like she was use to the whole thing, like as if it happened everyday of her life. I got the feeling that this was the parent that she inherited whatever anger she had.

When Bruce finally turned around and stormed back into the kitchen, I looked at the girl. "Um…"

"Forget him. He just doesn't want to admit the truth." She shook her head. "All he cares about is proving people wrong. Maybe this whole thing will teach him."

_At the cost of how many lives?_ I wondered silently. I watched as my companion pulled out a few bags of blue, crystal sugar. "Where'd you get that?"

"Stole it before my dad kicked us out. Might as well piss him off some more."

"But aren't those Chris's stuff?"

"He'll deal with it. He doesn't give a damn about 'grade A sugar that all look exactly the same from one another so the cake won't be flawed,'" she said, imitating her father's voice.

"One of those is a darker shade," I pointed out, examining one of the bags squashed between two other ones. It stuck out a little to me, probably because of all the time I'm stuck with the GSACA at our school. Some of the painters there can get pretty picky with their color shades.

"Huh? Who knew?" She tossed it over to me. "Someone screwed up, but Dad doesn't have to know."

The second I caught it, I felt something burning my skin. I dropped it in surprise, and automatically looked at my hands. They were beginning to became red.

"Shit, Callie!"

"There's something on that bag," I managed to mutter, looking at my hands. "And maybe on the sugar, too."

--------------  
~Joe

The town seemed to me like a mix between suburbs and rural (yes, I know what those words me. I didn't sleep through all of my classes, thank you very much.). But instead of thinking about how this was a nice place, all I could focus on was it being a secluded place for a killer.

"Well, we asked all of the cashiers if they've seen Jay. And we get nothing," Ivy said. We were sitting on a bench, trying to decide out next move. "Maybe-"

I stopped paying attention. I saw him, across the street, acting like a normal person who didn't just kill and kidnap people. There he was, smiling away while I was suffering because he thought he deserved to ruin lives just to get his way.

My brother's murderer was standing on the other side of the street.

I took off running.

Usually, I notice things during my chases. I notice when I run, jump, and pretty much anything I can understand while running after someone. But I just couldn't this time. All I could focus on was Jay. He killed my brother. I had to get him. That was all I could register.

My body must have known what it was doing. It was dodging whatever obstacle that was in the way, whether natural or pushed by Jay in an attempt to escape. My memory was full of fruits and vegetables rolling towards me, along with something that reflected in the sunlight for a brief moment. There were stares, and there was Sergeant Craig at some point.

And then it was done. I tripped over an apple that had rolled my way without my knowing. By the time I got up, Jay was gone.

_I could've caught him._ I looked for any signs of the monster. Sergeant Craig had managed to follow Jay, but something told me that he wasn't going to catch the murderer.

"Think it's poetic justice that you're the one going to deal with him?" Ivy asked, standing next to me. I shot her a look of confusion, in which she replied with, "You were talking out loud."

"Where-"

"You left me in the dust, and since I'm not the most athletic person in the world, I went and called Sergeant Craig for you. Tracking you down was hard, though. Did you realize that you two ran through half of this place?"

"I… I…"

"It's okay." She pulled out a case with a disc from her purse. "Jay dropped two of these. They were placed in the case on top of each other, see? I should probably give them-"

"Keep one of them," I mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Craig probably noticed one of the discs. But we might need the other one for ourselves. Besides, remember what happened the last time we handed the police all of the evidence?"

"Joe, they were completely incompetent that time. Too much ego, too little logic. But-"

"Ivy, please."

"You are taking this to heart too much, aren't you?" It wasn't in an accusing voice, but it hurt just the same. "You're becoming too obsessed, Joe."

Was I? Maybe. But I had to catch this murderer. He took Frank away from us in the most painful way possible. I would die before I let this guy get away again.

* * *

Poetic justice is a double edged sword. And it's in a lot of books. So... does that mean that the sword has cut through books using different edges...?


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry for the wait. It took me forever to figure out what to put in the chapter. I really got to work on my planning better...

Anyways, I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Callie

I had gotten lucky. The stuff on the bag turned out to be a natural acid that did not cause too much harm to my skin. It was easy to obtain, but, considering that the pain could have been much worse, I had gotten off lucky with that find. (On another note, the medics that checked me just in case said that they were surprised that I wasn't showing too much pain. It was something that I had taught myself in case something ever happened, but I never expected that it would be this helpful.)

The issue came later when they ran the sugar off for some testing. Turned out that there was a poison laced with the stuff. It wasn't harmful at the ratio it was in with the sugar and acid, but if one digested enough, they would be dead.

_Sugar._ It stood out in my head. This wouldn't be the first time this case that someone was poisoned by food. Something was going on in the kitchen, and it wasn't pretty.

I walked back into the room, thinking of how I was going to get back into the kitchen again without Bruce breathing down my neck. The sight that greeted me wasn't pleasant: Ivy was staring at her closed laptop, her body shaking as she kept one hand over her mouth and tears running down her cheeks. From the bathroom came the sounds of someone throwing up.

"What…" I wasn't sure what to ask. Instead of forcing myself to ask the question, I walked over to the bed where Ivy was sitting, and opened it myself.

I closed it after a single second. "What the fucking hell?!"

"We… we…" Ivy removed her hand from her mouth before spilling it all out at once, coming out faster and faster as she spoke. "We saw Jay in the town, and Joe went after him! Jay dropped two discs, and Joe told me to keep one! And we opened the filed and- and-" She broke down into sobs.

I hugged her, letting her bury her face into my shoulder. "Why the hell would Jay have this?" I managed to ask.

"His mind is warped. He thinks its entertainment. Probably showed it to Fenton a few times…" She sobbed, trying to calm herself down. "The fucking bastard."

I pulled the DVD out. I wanted to kill Jay myself. How could he enjoy watching himself rape Frank over and over again?

----------------

We were all quiet as we ate dinner in our room that night. All we could do is just sit on the bed, thinking.

It was Joe who finally spoke.

"There was more on that DVD."

Ivy and I waited for him to continue, which he did. "I saw the time thing. There's a lot more on that disc. We need to find-"

"Joe," Ivy said softly. "Are you-"

"I'm sure!" He suddenly got up, spilling some of his pasta onto the bed. He didn't notice at all. "Just let me-"

"Joe, you can't-"

"I have to!"

"No you don't!" At this point, Ivy had gotten up to stop Joe from doing anything stupid.

And that's exactly what he did. Joe shoved Ivy hard enough that she fell back onto the chair we had pulled out earlier. The chair was sideways, so her back hit one armrest of pure wood, and her legs hit the other.

I had shot up before Joe could even say a single word.

"Shit! Ivy!" Joe's eyes went wide with horror. "I'm sorry!"

"You're gonna be." My fist grabbed a handful of Joe's shirt. I pulled him so we were looking at each other, eye to eye. "You need to calm down, Joe. I don't know what the hell is going on through your head, and I don't really want to know. But I do know that if Frank were here, he would be kicking your ass for being such an asshole. So _stop it!_"

He just stared at me, then at Ivy, then at me again. It took him a moment before he finally asked, "What am I supposed to do, then?"

It was Ivy who answered him, her voice tinted with some pain. "Save that anger for something else. Right now we need to track him for what little we know of."

"Right. Track him."

I slowly released his collar, and looked him straight in the eye. In that one moment, it seemed as if they changed from pure rage to nothingness.

Maybe Joe died too.

-------------

~Joe

I watched Ivy as she watched the end of the disc silently. We had mutually agreed that she might have been more stable than I was at the moment. Her face had twisted in horror of whatever the screen what showing, but did not cry.

She slowly closed the screen.

"You were right." I could barely hear her. She was whispering to me. "There was something else."

"Ivy…"

She didn't look up, and instead just stared at the laptop. "Jay's a fucking sick bastard. Why does he do this?"

I felt myself getting sick in my stomach again. "Ivy, what-"

"He's raping your father, and having a fucking grand time."

Dad. Somehow, I kept forgetting about him in this case. It's almost like he was never here.

"Did you see anything in the background that could help find them?" I asked, hoping that somehow, I was distracting her from the second horror she had witnessed today.

"Maybe. I'll have to check a map or something," she mumbled, refusing to move.

"Here, I'll go get one." As an afterthought, I added, "And chocolate. I mean, chocolate might make you feel better and all. And since you're a lesbian, Callie won't think I'm hitting on you and-"

"Just go." I could barely hear the words, but I managed to understand.

"Sorry." I grabbed a card key and slipped out of the room, wondering how we all got into this mess.

I walked into the lobby quietly, thinking about the past few days. The first murder. Then Jay. Then the next pair of murders. Then how some of the mess was covered up because the guy running this whole deal had a brother who was influential enough so that his superiors would help keep the name of this whole thing relatively intact (Callie found this out from her new BFF).

And then finally Frank. Frank and Dad. Dad and Jay. And how everything just screwed us over.

I couldn't help but get the feeling that it was all my fault. Maybe if I was nicer to Frank when he and Phil got into that big argument, then he would have safely stayed in his room. If I ran faster, I could have caught Jay before he took Dad and get some revenge for what he made my brother suffer through.

I could see Nathalie in the little store that the hotel had. I tired to ignore her as I picked up a map of the area and a few chocolate bars. It was when I was looking over the magazine stand that she walked over and mumbled a few words to me.

"Fenton cared about you and your brother."

I turned around and stared at her. Who was she, and what happened to the truth about what my father thought about us?

She just nodded slowly. "You may not believe it, but he did. He used to talk about you two a lot when he first moved next door to me. I kept telling him to go home, but…"

"He has a different home now." I couldn't stand to say much else, and tried not to look at her.

"Would you believe me if I told you that your father is scared?"

"Maybe," I admitted. Somewhere, in the back of my head, the words had sounded familiar. Hadn't we talked about it before, me and Frank? Or was I just imagining things again?

"He doesn't want to admit the truth. I'm assuming that the woman, Alice, talked to you already?"

Alice. How long ago was it when she told us the truth? It seemed like forever. "Yeah, she did."

"Well, she managed to talk to me before your father kicked her out of the room. I tried asking him about it and…"

"It didn't go so well," I guessed.

"Fenton still had some kind of attachment to Jay. I can't really explain it specifically, but… Many rapes aren't reported because it's someone close to the victim who executes the crime."

"And Dad used to say… something stupid about that…" I couldn't think of the words. I didn't want to remember.

"He's still scared to admit it."

"And now it's haunting us all."

I walked over to the cash register, Nathalie following me. We each paid for our things, and waited for each other. Somehow, I think we bonded over that conversation. She was as much of a victim as I was because of this whole mess that was created.

In the back of my head, something that sounded like Frank's voice was saying, "It was never Dad's fault, either. He didn't ask to get raped. He just didn't know who to turn to for help."

As usual, Frank's voice was right. Frank was always right on these things (or, at least, often right enough where his mistakes were few and far). I began to wonder what he would have said about this whole thing if he were alive.

Alive. It hasn't been long since I found out that Frank had been murdered. Yet I've accepted it as fact. Maybe not to the point where I was willing to move on, but still… I've accepted the idea that my brother is dead. What happened to the old Joe who wouldn't believe it for a single second? He wouldn't believe that one of the indestructible duo was gone for good. What happened to him?

It was when we were walking towards my room when I saw him.

"Run." I dropped my stuff and launched myself at Jay, hoping to give Nathalie enough time to go for help. I let loose a torrent of punches, finally releasing my anger. I had already screwed up with my targets for the day, and wasn't planning on letting it go anywhere but the intended man.

I managed to throw a few good punches at his chest, but it barely fazed him. He only took a few steps and I suddenly felt his knee slamming against my gut. Another kick aimed at my shoulder and a punch that landed on my chin had me dazed. The guy used so much strength in those few moves that I began to fade in and out of consciousness.

I could barely remember my wish of Nathalie escaping. After that one moment, I must have blacked out for a little bit, because the next thing I knew, I was tied up and thrown into the back of a van. I barely saw Callie and Ivy in similar states before blacking out again.

Somewhere inside of me, I could hear myself wonder _Is this it?_

*tries to plan next chapter* Almost done with this story, if I am planning this right in my head...


	14. Chapter 14

A miracle has happened! I actually wrote the next chapter! (Actually, this one came easier than the last. So, here's to make up for all the time you all have been waiting.)

I really wish I could own the Hardy Boys, but I don't. I have a huge collection of their books, though! Wait, that doesn't count...?  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

I woke up on the cold, hard floor, barely remembering how the hell I had gotten there in the first place. It took me a minute for me to remember Jay, and then another to connect being beaten to pretty much a pulp in a few moves to being… well, here, wherever here was.

My hands were tied behind my back, and my ankles were tied together. There wasn't a gag, and something inside me said it was because Jay wants to hear me scream before he kills me.

There was a little part of me wondering if the guy was gonna rape me before taking my life. That's what he did to Frank, so does that mean he was gonna do that same thing to me? It was a scary truth that I didn't want to think of, but I had to. It kept the adrenaline running in me and made me even more desperate to get out.

I noticed that there wasn't a blindfold either (I rather not think about the reasoning for that), and the moonlight from what looked to be a broken window gave enough light for me to see the rest of the room. I looked around, and instantly let out a sigh of breath when I saw Callie and Ivy. They were still unconscious, but they were still breathing.

If I had learned anything over the past few years, it was to be grateful for the small things.

I risked getting caught awake and loudly hissed, "Callie! Ivy!" I also tried to fix my position so I would be able to at least scoot over, but my body was still aching from the pain it received.

It took awhile before Callie began to stir. "Huh…? Joe… Joe! Jay…" It took her less time to realize the situation we were in. "Jay got you too."

"Yeah. He beat me up. You?"

"Chloroformed," she replied bitterly. "He got to- Ivy! Where-"

I motioned my head to where Callie's fiancée was lying. The girl moved her legs, and tapped the other one on the back a few times. "Ivy! Ivy!"

"Cal, shut it!"

Callie ignored me, panicking when Ivy didn't respond. "Joe, she's barely moving. What-"

"Can you sit up to examine her?"

She didn't respond, instead rolling until she was in a position to allow herself to sit up. She scooted herself to the girl slowly, trying not to fall. "Ivy!" Callie looked up at me, horror on her face. "Joe, she's bleeding in the back of her head. He… he didn't hit her before, but…"

"How bad is it?" I said, trying to be as calm as I can. Someone had to in this crisis, after all.

"I… I don't know. There's a puddle of blood…"

"We've been out for a while," I tried to reason, but failing. We had to get Ivy help, and fast. Another thing I had learned over the past few years: blood loss and infection tended to act like friends.

"We have to get out of here. But how?" Callie looked at the window, muttering something to herself before saying, "It looks like we're in the middle of the woods."

"That's fucking great." I tried to make myself sit up again, and this time succeeded. "There has to be some-"

I stopped when I heard footsteps coming to the door at the other end of the room. A sudden wave of bad thoughts filled my head. Was it Jay? What happens when he finds out we were awake? Rape and kill us? And what about Ivy? Was he going to make her bleed it out and laugh about it in the end?

Another noise came, but this time from the outside of the house. The footsteps stopped, before turning around, probably to investigate. I held my breath, hoping that Jay would forget about us and-

More footsteps came towards our door, but this time they were quieter. I could barely hear them. There were slow and careful, but I could still tell how many steps were left before they reached the door. Four… three… two…

A gunshot filled the air. At first, I thought the bullet hit whoever seemed like they were trying to get into our room. But I realized that it sounded farther away, like maybe from outside.

The door opened, and a face I thought I wouldn't see again anytime soon appeared.

"Phil!"

He put his finger to his lips before gently closing the door and walking slowly towards us. Pulling out a pocket knife, he quickly cut the ropes off of my hands before moving onto Callie and Ivy. His eyes seemed to widen behind his glasses when he saw the blood.

"You guys were loud," he muttered as he carefully started to cut the bonds away from Ivy's wrists. "Jay heard you-"

"What the fucking hell are you doing here?" Callie hissed back, untying Ivy's ankles.

"Stakeout, breaking and entering, whatever you want to call it. I managed to sneak in here when he was gone. I was trying to open the lock he had on the door to the basement when he came back, so I hid in the house. I was trying to figure out how to escape when I heard you guys talking. Jay heard you too."

"So we got luck-" I stopped at the sound of footsteps came back through the hallway outside. I mouthed the word, "Shit!"

Once again, luck prevailed. Another noise was heard from outside, but this time it sounded like banging against a wooden door. The footsteps left once again.

"Someone's in the basement," Phil muttered. "That's where the entrance is. Outside, I mean."

"Why didn't you call us?" I asked, creeping over to check Ivy's wound for myself.

"ATAC got in the way. Apparently, your dad made some calls and got us kicked out. There were new agents stalking the hotel-"

"Kicked out?"

"You guys, Ivy." Callie lifted the girl's head gently as she stared at us. "We have to get help." Phil nodded, pulling out his cell phone. The light from the screen suddenly filled the room before he used his hand to cover it.

"What about Jay? He's gonna come back here."

"We'll think of something," Phil muttered as he placed a call to 911.

"We need more miracles than that, Phil. Unless you have an idea where we are?"

"A good thirty minutes away from civilization by car. A helicopter could probably make it," he mentioned before directing his attention to the other end of the phone.

"But will we have enough time?" Callie asked.

"We better hope so," I said darkly. "We're kinda dependent on it."

"If he comes back, I'm gonna kick his sorry ass-"

"Let's worry about survival," Phil said, closing his phone and, taking a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it against Ivy's wound. "Jay's pretty muscular-"

"Tell that to my aching body," I muttered.

"-but he must have some kind of weakness."

"His mind," Callie said, her eyes not leaving Ivy. "We may not know him too well, but we know that his mind is a twisted mess."

"So what do we do? Tell him to clean it up and go on our merry ways?" There was some anger in my voice as my mind flashed to Frank.

"We could jump him," Callie offered as an idea.

"It's becoming our only option, isn't it?" Phil looked down at Ivy, watching the blood seep through the handkerchief. "You two go on ahead and do it. I'm not much of a muscular guy, and I'll try to apply pressure to her wound until we get help."

"Do you have any idea about the layout of the house?"

Phil nodded. "There's a closet down the hall that should be big enough to fit you two. It's hidden, so it should work."

"But what if he tries to come in here first?" Callie protested.

"I'll try to hold him off. Besides, I need to get the guy for what he did to Frank." Phil looked down, trying to concentrate on the wound rather than the fact that he looked like he was about to cry.

"You heard." It wasn't a question, but I received a response anyways by the form of a nod. I wasn't sure what else I was supposed to say, so I got up and quietly walked to the door. Callie followed me, but got one last glance at Ivy.

We carefully snuck out, pausing almost a million times every time we heard some noise. I almost thought that, the rate we were going, Jay was gonna spot and kill us with ease.

Once again, our luck held through. We hid in the closet and had barely settled in when the outside door opened and dragged in a not so pretty sight.

Dad was dragged by the collar of what was left of his shirt, broken and beaten. Something within me knew he had just gotten raped again, and anger suddenly burned in me. Sure, my father may not be the greatest man alive in my books anymore, but no one deserved that. No one.

The conversation could be heard, and my stomach twisted even more.

"Kill you own kid, Fenton. We can't let your past ruin our future."

A few grunts of disapproval brought a slap to my dad's head.

"Listen, Fenton. I know that you love me. You would always hang out with me. It was only when those stupid tramps and bitches came and seduced you is when you left me." There was pure rage and annoyance in the man's voice. "So just kill the kid and his friends! I'll deal with the tramp myself!" There was more protest, and this time Jay shoved Dad into the wall.

That was when all hell broke loose.

As odd at this may sound, there was a cake that flew into Jay's face. It smashed into the man, temporary blinding and distracting him. I had managed to look past the two men and saw something in the doorway before it bolted.

It couldn't be. Could it?

Callie and I began launching ourselves at Jay, trying to tip him over. It was the best way to deal with a guy who could probably use your body and a punching bag for a day before it was broken apart, in my opinion.

The man fell with ease, which was surprising yet happily accepted in my books. He swore "Mother fucker!" very loudly before he crashed into the floor, his neck twisting sideways to try and get a look at us.

"It's the bastard and his bitchy friend! See, Fenton? They're trying to ruin our happiness!"

Dad didn't respond at all, and just watched with wide eyes.

Callie, however, seemed a bit distracted by the cake. "Where the hell did this come from?" She wouldn't touch it, and I took it as a sign that I probably shouldn't either.

Somehow, head knocking into the cold hard floor made Jay want to answer. "It was… going to… be _our_ wedding cake…"

The slurs in the speech worried me. "Callie, did we knock him over too hard or something-"

"No." She leaned down, and examined the icing under the little bit of moonlight coming from a far away window. "It's the same kind of sugar I picked up. Except…" She leaned closer. "There's something else in their too."

"What?"

"Another poison, I think."

This brought Jay into a frenzy, suddenly throwing both me and Callie off. "Liars! Stupid fucking-"

He grabbed Callie by the throat, and used his other hand to pick up some of the icing. "Want a taste… you little bitch? It can't… be that bad. Look, I'm fine!"

Callie aimed a kick at his chest, knocking the man back to the other wall of the hallway. "Liar? Then why can I beat you so easily?"

"Why you-"

It was obvious that the guy had a few moments left. He tried to latch out at Callie again, but missed. He then turned to me.

"You know… your brother had… a nice ass… he probably… would've moaned just like you… dear old man…"

I aimed a punch of my own, knocking Jay back. This time, he slumped down against the wall and started to seem like he was crying.

"Fenton… and me… together… help…"

"His mind's a mess," Callie muttered, stepping over the body and heading back to the room where Ivy and Phil were.

That's when Dad grabbed for my sleeve.

"Please… help him, Joe…"

There was a desperate look in my father's eyes. I wanted to say "We'll try."

But then I remember what happened to Frank. What happened to Dad himself. What happened to all those other people this man killed because of his delusions.

So I just looked at Jay's form, which was beginning to twitch, and muttered, "Not sure if there's any hope for him." _Physically or mentally._

* * *

Luck tends to be a big factor, doesn't it?


	15. Chapter 15

Almost done...  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Callie

A coma. A fucking coma.

I should have kicked the bastard harder.

Ivy laid on the hospital bed, unaware of anything that had happened since she was knocked out. She's supposed to be transported to Bayport later tomor- today, actually. It was one o'clock in the morning, but we all had too much adrenaline running through our systems to even consider sleep.

"Stupid fucking asshole," I muttered for the hundredth time in the hour.

"Cal, calm," Phil said softly. "He's dead."

"Hopefully rotting in hell, too."

Joe didn't say anything, but just stared at Ivy. He seemed like he was in a trance, not really focusing on anything but whatever was going on in his own head. It took him a minute before he finally spoke. "If you don't believe in ghosts, will you turn into one when you die?"

Phil just looked at Joe like he was crazy, but I understood. He saw what I saw in that cabin in the middle of the woods. I quietly said, "I bet it's ATAC's fault. They slowed Phil down, so who's to say that they didn't do the same to him?"

Phil looked even more confused. "What are you guys talking about?"

We ignored him, partly because we weren't exactly sure if anyone was listening in to our conversation (not that ATAC wouldn't have figure out what we were saying, but it would buy us a little time). So, instead, I said, "Go. Take Phil with you. And tell him I want an explanation."

Joe nodded, before pulling Phil out of the room, leaving me and my unconscious fiancée.

Ivy was still wearing the engagement ring. Somehow, I couldn't help but smile at that. My eyes traveled to her head, where the wound was hiding against the pillow.

She had needed a blood transfusion and a lot of stitches. At this stage, they weren't sure if she had contracted anything with the open wound, but I tried to keep my hopes up. Ivy as strong enough.

_But why couldn't I be stronger?_

Then again, why couldn't we all be stronger? We were all used to fighting crime, but this one had shaken us up. Maybe because we saw Mr. Hardy for the first time in over a year. Maybe it was because he himself, the great PI and all, had shown a dangerous weakness.

It wasn't his fault, but at the same time, it felt like he could have done more to prevent this all from happening.

I held Ivy's hand in mine, and placed my lips against her forehead before whispering, "I know who the other killer is. I have to get him. But that means I have to leave. I'll come back real soon, though, okay?"

I didn't expect a response, but somewhere in the back of my head, I could hear Ivy's voice whispering, "Go get 'em."

I reviewed all the facts in my head as I walked out of the hospital and asked one of the policemen who we had met after getting to the hospital for a lift back to the hotel. I could have probably walked, but I wanted to get this over with soon.

Bruce Craig might have been an ass, but he was an ass with single-minded priorities. Bad news around his stuff meant bad business. His daughter, Marisa, could have done it out of protest to her father's ways, but she was more of an in-your-face kind of person.

Then I did an internet search of Gail.

His motive made sense, in that strange, twisted sort of way. I guess if I had a strong sense of hatred and revenge, then I would be doing the same exact thing.

Lucky for myself and the world, I didn't have the motive or strong enough emotions.

I headed to the kitchen, and looked at the stands of cakes that were covering the counters. There were a lot of pastel colors, but there was one spot of bright color that was placed in just the right place to make in a centerpiece that everyone wanted to try.

_The darker shade was brighter than the rest by just a bit, _I reminded myself. _It makes sense, doesn't it?_

There was an underlying message in the colors. He had chosen the brightest flower, and suffered. Why shouldn't the world suffer with him?

"Chris!" I called out, hoping that the man was there making whatever last minute preparations he needed. And there he was, working alongside Gail.

"Oh, hey Gail." I still didn't know the guy really well or anything, but if I was right… "Did you make all of that bright color icing?"

"Um, yeah. But how-"

"I looked up your stuff. Your own artist's signature is bright colors added to food. Funny thing is…" I added, pretending to look thoughtful and positioning myself to run if Gail tried to get away, "The foods that those people ate before dying all had some bright thing on them, didn't they?"

For a moment, it looked like the guy would run away. But his fight instincts must have decided to try and take me on instead.

I grabbed his wrist before he could even touch me. I had a feeling it was leftover adrenaline and anger that allowed me to flip him over and smash his body against the floor, before putting my foot against his throat.

I heard Chris gasped, but didn't pay much attention to that.

I snatched the closed envelope from Gail's pocket and ripped it open. It was a lot of guessing and hope, but I didn't have much to lose.

"'Dearest Gail, I am sorry for all of my lies, but hear me out. Death…'" Suddenly, I didn't want to read the rest. Gail never read this out of fear. But there was something worse in this letter, something that was worse than whatever he could have imagined.

I continued anyways.

"'Death or marriage. Those were the two options that the horrible man had left me. Your death or marriage to him. As you now know, I chose marriage in order to save you. But I will escape to our special place the night before. I cannot stand the idea of really being bonded to the man through marriage. So come, or at least pray for my soul in the afterlife. Forever yours, Serenity.'"

That's when I noticed that Gail was crying.

The way that everything else fell into place with everything that I knew made me sick. "You never opened the letter. You thought that she was enjoying life with her new husband right now, weren't you?"

He nodded slowly, tears falling from his eyes freely.

"And you killed all those people because you thought you were getting revenge by making everyone else suffer before their marriage." I held the letter tight in my hand as I realized something else. "You never trusted her?"

"She was such a good actor…" he moaned. "She… she always wanted to be on stage… maybe she was lying… maybe she's alive…"

I gently placed the letter back in the envelope, before lowering it into his open hand. "Gail, she's dead. You may not believe me, but she _did_ jump off of that cliff. They found her body a week later."

"No… no…" He closed his eyes as reality seeped into his life.

"Why didn't you trust her?"

"I couldn't… I couldn't… I couldn't believe anything… I… I…"

"You raped that poor woman, Gail. Was it because she looked like Serenity?"

"Serenity… she was nicer… that woman… I only wanted to poison her… but she looked… so much like her…"

"The only bloody killing, right?"

He nodded the best that he could with his head against the floor. "I hate blood."

That's when the police came storming in to take Gail away. I guess Chris snuck out and alerted them.

Gail looked defeated when they snapped the handcuffs on. He just looked at me for a second before staring down at the ground.

Amazingly, the police didn't notice when Gail slipped the envelope into an open trash as they were getting him off the floor. As they all left, they didn't see me take it out and pocket it.

--------------

~Joe

He was sitting in our room. I had completely forgotten that he still had a card key when he left. I was surprised that it wasn't broken by now.

He looked up, his eyes somehow duller than they once were. A pen and pad of paper were sitting close by on the desk.

"Hi, Frank."

Phil didn't say anything. I guess he never got a chance to see "ghost" Frank like we did. Frank, on the other hand, started to scribble something down on the paper before thrusting it to me.

I glanced at the words, knowing that the ideas were confirmed and that my brother received a more horrible fate than my father had.

I handed Phil the note before hugging Frank. It felt as if he flinched from the embrace, probably not wanting to know much human contact for a while. He was changed, but for how long will he be more of a stranger than the guy who saved my ass more times than I can count?

I could still hear the remainders of his voice in my memory, sobbing.

_"He raped me, Joe. I… I… he… and ATAC just… and… and…"_

Words that I would never really hear, if I thought about it. After all, Jay decided to take my brother's voice along with his soul.

* * *

Kinda feels like on the short side, but everything shall (hopefully) be explained next chapter.

*hugs Frank for good measure*


	16. Chapter 16

Mostly dialogue.  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Joe

Ivy stared at me, as if she had entered some parallel universe when she woke up from her coma or something.

Then again, it did feel like some kind of parallel world now.

"Divorce," she mumbled, looking back down at the papers that I brought. It had been a full week since she had fallen into a coma, and a bunch of things changed while she was stuck in bed unconscious. "You can't be serious."

"You forgot that Fenton Hardy is entitled to do whatever the fuck he wants to, since he's the great PI who can't be hurt at all from his cases," I said bitterly.

"So he still hasn't admitted it?"

"Publicly and formally, no. Evidence left behind from our dear old pal Jay did all the talking instead."

"And what's written in here is true?" she asked, handing back the papers.

"Yup. He hands over the house and everything in it, as long as we never meddle in his life again."

"Is that his way of getting rid of you guys from his life? Through legal papers that make it basically an everlasting restrain order? Can he even do that?"

"Don't know, and don't care. We don't really want to deal with him either."

"Joe-"

"Ivy, just accept it. I know that the better route is the patch things up and all, but I just can't deal with it anymore. None of us can deal with it."

Ivy was quiet for a second before finally nodding. "Fine. Speaking of which, how did your mom take it?"

"Said it was a year overdue, the way things have been going. And…" Better tell Ivy now instead of later. "I told her about ATAC and Jay."

"You what?!"

"Calm down! The nurse's gonna kick me out! Or worse, Callie." I couldn't help but look at the bouquet of roses that Cal had gotten Ivy. The girl had found out Ivy woken up about forth period today, and used her lunch to visit her fiancée in the hospital.

"Joe, why the fucking hell did you do that?"

"Mom had a right to know. Jay was a reason why her life is the way it is now. And ATAC screwed us over when we needed the help. I think Dad had an influence getting us kicked out. But funny thing is, someone mentioned an email telling us to get out of the hotel or get out of the organization. Mind telling me about that?" Ivy had to know by elimination. After all, Phil had already left at that point, and Ivy was the one with the laptop.

Her cheeks grew red. "I didn't want you to have to worry about another thing. But I didn't think they would seriously consider it. Aren't they already having issues with the number of agents?"

"It's okay, Ivy. Half of us are going to college, I don't want to deal with them, and we both got senior year coming up. If I learned anything from Fra-" I stopped mid-sentence. I still couldn't help but think about the wrongs done to my brother during the case. Once I got the full explanation, all I've wanted to do was punch a few holes into the wall before going after everyone who could have fixed it but did nothing.

"Did you tell your mom about what happened to him?" Ivy asked in a small voice.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "She got really pissed off at Dad for that. It wasn't Dad's fault, but… I don't know. If he did something earlier, then maybe…"

"Then maybe you would still have a family."

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for a bit before I decided to bring up the things about Gail. "He admitted to the killings. He would slip poison into any ones he couldn't attend, and when he could he would go and kill personally. Problem is he doesn't clearly recollect them."

"He's not a violent person. His mind forced him to forget."

"Makes sense."

_Tell her now. She should know the truth, too. The real reason why the family is falling apart. The beginnings of a new life._

So I blurted it out.

"Frank's alive."

"What?! Why- You- You should have said something earlier-"

"He's… he's not the same, Ivy."

"He was raped, Joe. Of course-"

"When he managed to get out of the car… Frank went to ATAC. Jay made him drink some chemical compound, and he wanted to know if there was a way to reverse the damage." I couldn't look up and face her. My hands were shaking. "Ivy… they knew he was alive. They fucking _knew_ and thought that they would use his faked death as a way to pull us out. They kept Phil away, they kept Frank away-"

"Chemical compound…"

"-they act like they can rule the world! What about us? Aren't they supposed to help us?" I felt like screaming the last words, but didn't. We were in a hospital, after all.

"What happened afterward?"

"Frank got away and tried to help as much as he could. But there were ATAC agents there… we never even noticed them… then again, they were adults and all…"

"So… now what?"

"We're all out," I reminded her. "And… the chemicals did something to Frank's vocal chords. I'm a bit hazy on the details, but from the sounds of it, there's little to no chance that he'll ever speak again."

"Oh… Joe… I…"

"It's a good thing that he learned sign language when he was learning those billion of others," I said bitterly. "Now I just have to figure out what he's trying to say."

"Where is he now?"

"Getting another doctor to make sure that the chemicals did nothing else. ATAC wasn't exactly helpful on that point." I sighed, finally looking up. "He thinks that he can stand to lose his voice, but I'm not sure if I can believe that."

"You have to. And it's probably true. He could have lost it all, and I think he knows that." Ivy sighed herself, except hers was softer than mine. "Frank can look at the big picture when he wants to."

I nodded. "He's going to Britain, too. He was planning to surprise is with the newsafter graduation, but he told us he got his scholarship and planned to go a few days ago. Now that Phil has his stuff, they're gonna try and get a place together and all."

"How is Phil?"

"Okay. He and Frank have been hanging out a lot. Frank's still uncomfortable being around people. But it'll get better."

"And what about you? Where all you in this whole mess?"

"Wondering how the fuck it ended up like this," I answered honestly. "I'm gonna finish school at Bayport, help Mom move, and figure it out from there."

"Move to where?" Ivy didn't need to ask why. It wasn't hard to tell.

"She's thinking of someplace warmish. Maybe even to the countryside. Either that, or she'll find a reason to move to Britain."

"That'll be nice." Ivy looked around the room, trying to find something. "What about Vanessa?"

Vanessa. I hadn't thought about her at all for the past few days. "Maybe she was right. Maybe I cared too much for Frank. But… but he was my brother. And I had to sacrifice a lot with him just to be with her. So…"

"No chance of getting back together, then. Huh."

"Yeah. But it's life. It could be worse."

"True."

We sat in silence again, but this time I felt a little better. I hadn't bothered to talk to anyone about these things since I spoke to Mom, and even then I didn't tell her everything. Frank had his own issues, and Phil was helping Frank. Callie worried over Ivy, and Ivy hadn't been awake until this morning.

"When are you getting out?"

"Who knows? They're still running some test or something, so not any time soon."

"Well, at least you'll have Callie fawning over you the whole time," I said with a smile.

"Only you would think of abusing it."

"I wasn't!"

"Bullshit."

"I… okay, yeah, you got me."

We laughed as Frank walked through the door, Phil in tow.

"Hey Ivy." Phil held out a box of chocolates. "Heard that Cal already got you the flowers, so I thought food would be the next best thing."

"And you got her chocolate. You know, there are a lot better foods out there that you could have gotten," I joked. Frank rolled his eyes and swatted me in the back of the head, but he was smiling too.

"So, are you okay Frank?" Ivy asked, her smile disappearing just a little.

My brother nodded before doing some sign language. I couldn't figure out what he was trying to tell her, but Ivy seemed like she understood.

"Oh… well, at least you know."

"What'd he say?" I asked, looking from Frank to Ivy.

"They confirmed that there is no chance that he'll ever speak again," Callie said, walking into the room. She sat herself right next to Ivy, wrapping an arm around the younger girl. "It's honestly not surprising, but still… a small chance is better than nothing."

Frank nodded in agreement. He suddenly smiled and made more symbols with his hands and arms.

"Note to self: learn sign language over the vacation," I said out loud. "Since it seems like everyone but me knows what's going on."

"He said that it's fun talking about you when you can't figure out what he's trying to say," Callie deadpanned.

"Shut the fuck up, Shaw. I asked for what he said, not your fucking opinion."

"Oh yeah, Hardy? You wanna fight?"

"Guys, it's a hospital-"

"Good. Shaw's gonna need the-"

"Oh really? Well, why don't-"

Frank rolled his eyes in almost perfect timing with Ivy's while Phil just laughed and said, "Any bets on how long it'll take before they're kicked out?"

It was the way our life should have been. We were supposed to be laughing in each other's company. We shouldn't have been in a hospital worrying over rape and comas and everything else.

_Divorce. Dad. Jay. Death before the big day of tying the knot. Murderers. Liars. ATAC._

_Second chances. Graduation. Britain. Flowers. Chocolate. Mock fights. Rings. Books. Friends. Family. Love._

But we'll take this little moment. It's the little things that save you in the end, really.

* * *

This chapter ended on a happy note! Yay!

No sequel to this, but there will be an epilogue. *goes all dramatic* INTO THE FUTURE!


	17. Epilogue

Is it done... really? YES!

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

~Fenton

~20 years later~

I regained my senses in front of the computer, the only light in the study in the middle of the night. The search engine was almost flashing, alerting me that it couldn't find whatever I was looking for.

What _was_ I looking for, anyways?

I know that I was in bed when I fell asleep, not in the small room of the apartment that I had labeled as my study. So how did I end up here of all places? And why…

_Sleepwalking. _Trudy had mentioned it once or twice, but I never paid attention to her. Before, there wasn't any evidence except for her word. But now…

I looked at the words in the search box, and could feel myself getting sick.

_Franklin Hardy. No new results._

-------------

"Yes… yes, Grace. He is becoming a wonderful boy, but really needs to learn how to help out… Yes, I understand," Trudy said into the phone. She had forced me to sit and eat breakfast after discovering that she had been right and that, yes, I had been sleepwalking. Once she piled food onto my plate and made sure that I started eating, she called up one of her new friends that she met after we had moved to our new apartment an hour away from New York City.

She finally hung up after a good hour or so. By then, I had finished my breakfast and moved on to reading the paper.

"You're going to see a psychologist, Fenton." The tone of voice left no room for argument, but I still attempted to sway her against such an idea.

"Trudy-"

"Fenton, whether you believe me or not, this has been going on for months now. It's time to put an end to whatever is making you do this." She crossed her arms stubbornly. "There's a good one that Grace happens to know, and you're going to this woman right now and getting some help!"

I felt like putting up an argument, but the look in my sister's eyes told me not to. One was or another, I had to go.

--------------

The psychologist's office was her house, which was about an hour and a half from where I was now living. I honestly wondered if this would all be worth the effort.

It was a peaceful town that was easy to navigate through, and I soon found the house. It was small, brick place that seemed warm and inviting.

At that point, I realized that Trudy never told me the name of the woman I was supposed to see.

I got out of the car and went to the door, anyways. I knocked once, and looked around while I waited. Above the mailbox, there was an engraved plate that read "Dr. Shaw" before listing the degrees and titles that these signs usually listed.

It was when the door opened that it all hit me.

There was Ivy Richards, twenty years later, standing in the doorway, watching me intently to see if I would run away. "Hello, Mr. Hardy. Care to come in?"

I barely nodded before my feet led me to the area that Ivy was pointing to from the hallway. She followed me in, sitting on the couch in front of the window. I took the opposite couch.

I was the first one to talk. "Why are you here?"

"I live here, Mr. Hardy. I also happen to use this part of the house as my office, since the FBI finds that people are more comfortable that a straight psychologist was in the office and that I was here," she answered simply, no venom in her voice. "A drink?"

"No thanks. But… why did you agree to see me?"

"Things in life can sometimes be long overdue. This is one of them. Ms. Hardy has explained to me what has been occurring, and I think I already know what is going on."

"It's noth-"

"You knew that Frank was alive back then, didn't you?"

The question stunned me into silence, and all I could manage to do was look at the woman.

She continued on without an answer. "In fact, you were one of the people who agree that it was better that the rest of us didn't know about Frank's escape from death to get the rest of us out of there. You were upset that someone else had survived Jay's wrath and was living. You were the one who was supposed to be the strong one."

"And then you pushed your family away. Maybe you had some secret hopes that they would deteriorate without you. After all, Frank couldn't have grown to become better than you. You just barely managed to survive, so how should a faggot-"

I flinched at the word. Ivy noticed, and paused mid sentence. "You know, people would call us that behind our backs in high school. We hated that word so much. I guess that's why you developed your homophobia. You were scared that they would call you that, too."

"Anyways, you didn't want your son to surpass you in surviving. And you would be so happy to learn that neither one did, wouldn't you? That's why you would search when you sleep. You wanted to make sure that they were gone."

No…

"They weren't strong enough, weren't they?" There was now some bitter venom that laced her questions, but somehow she managed to make them sound sweet and innocent while the horror was still there. "That's why you can't find them, Mr. Hardy. You're wish came true, didn't it? They're not here to haunt you and remind you of the past you couldn't escape. They aren't alive-"

No… no… no…

"Gone forever. Isn't that what you wanted-"

"No…" I moaned out loud. "No… no… no…"

Ivy watched me quietly, her face in neutral. "No, Mr. Hardy? But that's what you wanted deep down-"

"No!" I shot up from my seat. "No, I didn't! I want… I want them back! I want them alive! I… I…"

Ivy didn't move. Instead, she asked, "Are you sure?"

I didn't even think. "Yes."

"Good. It's a step through the long, overdue process." She closed her eyes and sighed softly. "Sadly, we are done with this for today-"

"What?"

"-but Ill give you a ring once I make some other calls to get this all sorted out." She got up, a small smile on her face. "Trust me, Mr. Hardy. This will help you. I promise."

All I could do is nod, before asking, "What happened to my sons?"

"The wrong time and place, I'm afraid. You'll find out soon enough." It seemed that her voice gained a little bit of sadness when she said this. "Until next time, Mr. Hardy."

--------------

It would be a month later before I got the call. I was told to come the next day at noon, which I did. The place was familiar and comforting, but my stomach was in knots. What happened to my sons since the last time I saw them twenty years ago?

They were still alive, right?

Callie opened the door this time, giving me a glare before letting me in. "I trust you won't do anything stupid, right?"

"I'll try," I managed to answer as I walked in. My eyes suddenly noticed a picture hanging on the wall. Looking closer, I realized that it was a photo from Frank's graduation all those years ago. He was smiling, but there was something in his eyes, and it took me a moment to realize what it was.

Sadness.

A crash of pots suddenly filled the house with noise, and Callie shook her head. "You know, it's pathetic that the kids can be gentler with our stuff than you are!" she shouted down the hallway to what seemed to be the kitchen.

A voice with a British accent yelled back, "Well, your system of organization sucks!"

I knew that voice. It was different now that it had the accent, but I could still hear the same personality behind it despite all of the time that had passed. "Joe…?"

Another voice with the same accent soon commented on things. "Since when did you care about organization, anyways?"

"Phil, too?" I looked at Callie. "What's going on?"

"They're ruining my kitchen, that's what," she muttered before storming off to the room. I followed, wondering if it was really true. "Okay, get out of my kitchen! We actually use this, unlike you people!"

An older version of Joe shook his head, placing a bunch of pots onto the counter. "We do use our kitchen, Callie. Thing is, I'm not the one cooking."

"I can see why. Now out!"

"Auuunnnntttt Callie!" A small girl, probably not older than seven, ran towards Callie. I noticed that she also had an accent. "The pots tried to attack me!"

If anything, the woman got angrier. "Really, now? Joe…"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to off the little kid, I swear!" Joe gave me one glance before ignoring my presence. "Phil would dissect me for his students!"

"Hm, now there's an idea." Phil, who had adapted the look of a college professor, pondered out loud. "I wonder if I can get away-"

"No way."

"Daddy!" The little girl ran over to Phil, hugging his leg.

"It's okay, Tana. I'm here to protect you. Why don't you go find Gabbie? I think she would want to meet someone here."

"Okay!" Tana ran out of the room, shouting "Gabbie!" as she left.

"How you haven't gone deaf is beyond me," Callie mumbled, snatching some of the pots out of Joe's grasp.

"One manages." Phil then turned to me. "Mr. Hardy."

Joe finally took a good look at me, his eyes looking sad and angry. "Well, Dad. You've lost more hair, gained weight, and managed to look like more of a mess in twenty years. Congrats."

I didn't know what to say to that, so instead I asked," And Frank…?"

"Frank?" Joe seemed a little surprised at the name. "Dad, do you have any idea what happened in the past twenty years?"

I shook my head.

"Oh." He looked at Phil, and asked something in a language that I recognized as French. Phil responded in kind. Then another voice filled the room, this time belonging to a teenage girl.

Tana came back with an older girl in tow. She was probably sixteen years old, and her gaze had already harden to someone who wasn't scared of fighting. She looked at me and muttered, "What kind of father are you, anyways?"

"Gabbie…" Phil said softly.

"Sorry, Daddy," she muttered back.

"What were you doing, anyways?"

"Getting stuff for Dad. He was emailing someone. Someone died, I think."

"Okay. Go give him his stuff, then we'll try and make lunch."

She nodded before going back to wherever she was.

"Should we go?" Joe asked.

Callie was the one who responded, putting away some of the pots. "Yeah. And don't mess up the place, Craymer."

Craymer? Why did that last name sound familiar-

Right. It was Laura's last name before she married me.

Somehow, I found myself walking behind Joe to Ivy's office, where she was sitting across from Frank. Frank was making gestures with his hands, and it took me a second to realize what he was doing.

_Sign language. What happened-_

Joe answered the unasked question softly. "Jay took away Frank's voice. But Frank moved on. Lives in Britain with Phil and me and his two adopted kids. And is a psychologist. He moved on, Dad. What about you?"

"I… I… I just lived."

"Thought so." He sighed out loud, interrupting the conversation between Ivy and Frank.

"I'll move," Ivy said, sighing. "Joe, no ruining my office."

"Okay, just because-"

"Frank, keep your brother in line." The woman got up, and walking out of the room.

Frank nodded slowly even after she left, his eyes fixed on me. He had matured, and there was some kind of permanent sadness that seemed to be attached to his face.

"Let's get this started, Dad. Frank has to do whatever analysis or diagnosis psychologists do. This is supposed to be our vacation from work, not come over here to work more," Joe said, taking a seat next to his brother. "And, by the way you old bastard, I still haven't forgiven you."

At this, Frank rolled his eyes slightly, jabbing Joe with his elbow. He then held out his hand, offering me the other couch.

There was something that I wanted to say after all of this time, but the words refused to come out of my mouth.

Joe sighed. "Come on, Dad. If anything, we're going to part at death, not when you start running into the streets wondering why the bloody hell we're here. So might as well accept the small things and live your life."

I saw down quietly, not sure if I was supposed to respond to the statement.

Joe was right about one thing at that moment. I wasn't going to abandon my family again. At death we will part.

But not before then.

* * *

Yay! It's done!

And before I say anything else, for anyone who wants to know, here's what happened with everyone else's lives during those twenty years:

Frank and Phil moved to Britain for college. Phil went on to study anthropology, and Frank decided that he would take up psychology as his major. When the two did decided to marry (and decided against a wedding, since too much bad association went with that idea), they took on Laura's original last name, Craymer (which I so totally made up XD).

Joe and Ivy graduated from Bayport and went on to college in America. Ivy took up pyschology over performing arts, and helped Callie, who took up law enforcement. Joe also took up law enforcement, but unlike Callie who was looking at the FBI to work at, he looked overseas to Britain.

After graduating, Callie and Ivy got married (once again, without a wedding) and found a nice town to move in that was about two and a half hours from NYC. Both were employed by the FBI, but Ivy also does some work outside of their work.

Joe (who had also changed his last name to Craymer), after helping Laura move to the countryside and swearing that he'll come every year with Frank for the holidays, moved to Britain with Frank and Phil, who had found a house and permanently moved to Britain. Phil and Frank had both gotten their Ph.D.s after a lot of work.

Some years later, Frank was working some independent work as well as for MI6 (since Alex Rider is there and all XD) and Phil was becoming a professor at one of the colleges they lived close to. Joe works for MI6. Gabbie and Tana (nine years old and a newborn, respectively) were victims of a violent gang who planned to sell the two as slaves. Gabbie would only talk to Frank, and that was just barely. However, Frank and Phil decided to adopt both kids.

* * *

*puts in another line to end the semi-flashback thing*

So, it's done. Did I already say yay yet? ...of course I did. Oh, and like I mentioned, no sequel.

I really want to thank anyone who read this! And I also want to thank all of the reviewers who commented on any of the three stories! The feedback was great, and I like to think that I am becoming better at this (of course, it could all just be an illusion in my head...). I hope that I at least entertained everyone!

And if anyone cares, my profile will list my next projects.

Thanks again everyone! *gives everyone a hug*


End file.
